If you ran away - Mind if I stay? Part 2 (Steven Grant x Reader)
Summary:The worst morning of Steven’s life is officially the one he woke up without you. Nothing’s made sense since. And if he thinks it can’t get any worse, that’s only because he has yet to notice his nightmares catching up to him.
Warnings:SO MUCH ANGST, sad Steven is an understatement, no smut just brief mentions but the series is 18+ so minors DNI, ep 1 spoilers
Word count: ~6.1K
A/n:Okay just so it’s clear, I am not making Marc the bad guy! I’m going somewhere with this (I’m trying to at least:)) This is just me experimenting with making a series *sweats nervously*
Title and lyrics from Where’s my love? by SYML. Gonna start adding those at the beginning ‘cause I love the soundtrack in my head.
“Yeah, no, the date was great. She really liked the… flowers. And me. She’s really… smart and funny, and she’s got the most wonderful laugh. You’d really like her. I think this could really… lead somewhere, you know? Might bring her around soon. Anyway, sorry I missed you again, Mom. Love you. Laters, gators.”
The smile Steven had forced onto his face died the moment he hung up. Not that it had done much to brighten the tone of his voice.
Jake Lockley x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader
Words: 2600
Warnings: Cursing, mention of sex, break up, Jake can be a dick
Summary: Marc had a suspicion he had another person in him, Steven wasn’t the only one, that was evident after what happened with Harrow. But neither Marc nor Steven could be prepared when they met Jake.
When Marc realized that Khonshu tricked them, he was fuming, and so was Steven.
“You said you would let us go!” yelled Marc.
“I said I’ll let you and the worm free, never mentioned your third party.” Marc and Steven both felt as if their stomach fell, the feeling of being played was devastating.
They found themselves on yet another mission. A mission they thought was long over, yet here they were, standing in a weird temple and the worst is that Layla was with them.
“Khonsu, you liar!” she yelled. “You said you would set them free!”
“Again, I never mentioned the third one, if he chose to work for me, that has nothing to do with you.”
All three knew Khonsu had a point. Yet, still, they were super mad.
“You played us!” said Steve as he came forward.
“Can we get over this, please? We are here to catch someone very dangerous before you three decided to arrive, the plan was going swimmingly,“ said Khonshu.
Layla followed what he thought was Marc, that is how she got there and how thankful she was that she went.
Then they met the guy they were there for.
His name was Jacob Highs, according to Khonshu he likes to torture people and plays cruel games with them.
"Marc Spector, I know about you. Now, it’s time for you to face your demons!” the man let out a wicked laugh.
“Kill him Marc!” yelled Khonshu. “Kill him before h-”
—
“Marc?” he heard Layla’s voice.
“What happened?” he asked as he opened his eyes, he found himself in an old dingy house. From the window, he could see the outside was pitch black. No landscape, nothing, only darkness.
“I-I don’t know but…” Layla couldn’t finish her sentence as Marc was hugged suddenly.
“Oh, Marc! I thought you died!” said Steven.
“Steven? How is this possible?”
“Told you Highs is dangerous.” said Khonshu, "He likes to play with people. This is one of the realms he created.“
Marc finally stood up and he noticed another man, another him.
"So, you are Jake.” all three looked at Jake who rolled his eyes, not answering. The three started to talk trying to figure out what to do.
“How do we get out of here?” asked Layla who looked at all three men and Khonshu.
“We wait.” said Jake, finally speaking up, everyone looked at him.
“Wait? Are you out of your mind?”
“Technically, yes. I am.”
“How could we just stand and wait?” asked Steven as he looked at everyone.
“We will die here if we don’t find a way out.” said Layla.
“Yeah, let’s just start walking, get out of this filthy house and see what we are against.” said Steven as Marc was thinking.
“No, we need to wait.” said Jake again with a firmer tone.
“Why would we just sit here and wait?” asked Marc, annoyed with the man in the hat.
“Because, unlike you two, I have a girlfriend who is actually useful.” said Jake and just as he said that Jacob’s unconscious body flew in the window, shattering the glass as he landed. Jake made an ‘I-told-you-so’ face at the others before the door opened and a woman came in, you.
“Oh,” you looked at all the people in there. “Hello.” you offered a small wave. You looked at Khonshu. “So, he doesn’t speak and I didn’t want to kill him in case that would get us stuck here forever.” you said and then turned to the others. “Well, this is… awkward.”
“Hi, Mi Amor.” you smiled at Jake and placed a kiss on his lips, he pulled you close by your waist.
“There they go again.” said Khonshu as Jake whispered Spanish words into your ear before disappearing to find a way out.
The other three just watched in disbelief. Not it all made a lot more sense to Layla, whenever Marc forgot a date or he was late, or he had marks on him that wasn’t from fighting, Layla had a suspicion he had another woman, but she never knew Jake was there and that he had someone.
When you finally pulled away from Jake, he kept you close, kissing your neck, determined to leave a mark on your delicious skin.
“Sorry, this is a bit, come on now.” you tried to push him away, but it didn’t work.
“Who are you?” asked Steven.
“You must be Steven, lovely to meet you and you Marc, and oh what was it? Lauren?”
“Layla,” said Marc with a very annoyed tone but you didn’t mind.
“Right, lovely to meet you all, Jake did mention you three, but as you can see he’s not big on talking.” just as you said that Jake pulled you closer, and it made you giggle but he also bit your neck a little.
“My name is Y/N, I’m Jake’s girlfriend and partner in crime. I’m a descendant of a Goddess, not too sure which one, I have certain powers. Like I can see the angry pigeon standing behind you.” everyone turned to see Khonshu there.
Jake finally finished with your neck as he let you go, but still kept you close.
“I wasn’t able to find a way out.” he said before he turned to Jacob, he was out cold and he will be for a long time. “We will stay here and when he wakes up we will convince him to let us out.”
“Lovely, this is like camp when you are a kid. I would love to get to know you all better. Let’s start with you Steven.” you sat down on the floor, creating fire in the fireplace to keep you all warm.
And you talked.
—
You talked a lot. Marc was sure he has gone mad. Not that he wasn’t already insane but this.
To finally meet the man who killed many, whom he didn’t know about, who he cannot even remember, and he had a girlfriend?
Marc was loyal to Layla, always.
But this, this was too much, and by Layla’s expression, he thought the same.
“So, how does this work?” asked Marc with a very annoyed voice. “We find out that Khonshu lied to us, we are still Moon Knight, and now this. Another me and you?”
“I know you feel cheated, Khonshu did hide this from you b-”
“And just who the fuck are you?!” Marc was now angry.
“Amigo! Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to my girl! If it wasn’t for her that fucker would be out there torturing us.”
“This IS torture!"
Steven wanted to defuse the situation, he really did but he agreed with Marc.
"So, how does this work?” he asked the same question Marc just did.
“He comes to me, we go on dates, usually that includes killing people Birdie tells us to kill, then we go back to my place or to his, sorry, yours and have sex. Easy life. I leave before he wakes up or he leaves before you switch.”
The way you were so causal about this was disturbing. They all made a face.
“Look, I know you all are new to this, but I am a good fucking person okay? I help people, I save people and I knew what I was getting into when I met Jake. He told me about you three, he told me how this works, you all can be angry at me all you want, but you cannot deny a man from his love.”
Layla was too quiet during all this, even you noticed. It must be hard for her to hear all this, but this wasn’t just about her.
You loved Jake and Jake loved you, they all have to live with that as you live with the fact that Marc and Steven love Layla.
“Nah, I say we vote. It’s two against one. You two have to stop… this.” said Steven.
“Vote? Are you mad? Do you want me to crush your skull?” spoke Jake but you put your hand on his shoulder.
“Try me.” you said. “Try it, try and separate us, Steven, even you Marc, I challenge you to try.” They didn’t know what you were capable of. And for Jake, you’d do everything.
Suddenly everything felt cold, the windows started to freeze and the fire went out, the wooden floor began to get slippery with the ice on the surface.
You weren’t joking, Marc thought you were, but you were not.
Powers? Definitely. You were scary, Marc didn’t want to mess around with you, not for one bit.
That fire in your eyes as you stood up for the one you loved, he had never seen that before, not even in his own eyes.
It made him question so many things.
And by the look on Layla’s face, as she excused herself to another room, he knew.
You watched as the two left, leaving Steven behind.
“So, Steven, I heard you work in a gift shop in a museum?”
“Used to work.” he corrected.
“Right, so, anything you learned there? Jake never really liked it, although he did like one of the tour guides.” you said sending a side-eye towards him.
“It was you? You asked her on a date to the stake house!” now it made sense even to Steven, he did find it difficult to believe Marc, who was married would ask someone on a date.
“Yes, but I found someone better.” you smiled as Jake finally sat down beside you. “Tengo Frio, Amor.” he said and you put the fire back on. Steven sat down close to it, thankful that the ice was finally gone.
“Look, Steven, I understand this is a lot to take in, it was a lot for me as well. But I’m not going to let Jake just leave. Maybe it is unfair to Layla, but if you take him from me, that is unfair to me. You have to understand, please. I love him. And I’m sure I can love you too. I mean no harm.”
You spoke so gently like you were trying to make a child understand something huge, and you kind of were.
You understood their side, you really did. But you were not willing to let go of Jake. Never.
When Layla and Marc arrived back, they looked… not happy. To say the least.
“Okay, now that we talked about this, ready to leave?” you stood up as did Steven and Jake.
“W-But I thought you said you can’t-”
“I never said I can’t get us out of here, all I said is that I’m not willing to kill him to risk getting us stuck.” you said smiling at Steven.
“Smart girl.” said Khonshu as he waited. You closed your eyes but then remembered one more thing.
“Oh and Mr Lockley, you better thank me for this! You know what I like!”
“Ice cream.”
“That, and you on your knees baby.” you winked and before anyone could answer, you quickly worked your magic.
—
Marc woke up in his bed, alarmed at what just happened, he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not.
“Steven? Was it all a dream?”
“If it was, we dreamt the same thing. We have to go to work.”
Marc got dressed and let Steven take over so they could go to work. Both of them were thinking hard. Was it really all just a dream?
Steven worked as usual, having a smile on his face as he served everyone. And just like Marc, he couldn’t think of anything else.
He knew he will need to talk to Layla and you as well. But how would this work out? Would this work out at all?
—
Well, Layla wasn’t happy. At all.
Is seemed like she understood the fact that Egyptian Gods were real better than that a person can have D.I.D. It broke Marc’s and Steven’s heart.
She left them.
Marc blamed you, of course he did, but Steven, he felt something else, curiosity.
He wanted to find you, and he was willing to ask Jake for help. But he knew better than to mess around with Jake especially since Marc knew about Steven’s steps.
Another week ended, you let out a sigh as you stood in front of the museum. Jake asked you to come since he wanted to go to a restaurant. You eyed the woman he asked previously on a date.
“Damn, she’s gorgeous.” you said as she smiled at her colleague and left.
You turned around to look at the stairs, seeing one person coming your way.
“Would you look at that, I was waiting for,” you checked your watch. “Five minutes…hmm… it felt longer.” You moved your arms around his neck as you kissed him.
But something was off, instead of his arms moving around you, he just froze.
“Shit. Steven?” you asked as you quickly pulled back.
“Y-Yeah.”
“Oh, sorry, Jake said he wanted to meet, I thought you were him. I’m sorry.”
You wanted to leave, disappear.
“I-I actually wanted to speak with you. If you are up for it.”
“Sure, let’s go eat something I’m starving.”
You two arrived at a steak restaurant, you ordered a nice plate of steak while Steven only asked for a salad.
“You are charming.” you said and it made Steven stutter.
“Thank you.”
“Charming, smart, handsome and British. Nice combination, makes all the panties drop.” you probably shouldn’t have said that especially while he was drinking, but you did.
“Layla left us.” he said with such a sad tone it made you feel bad.
“I’m sorry Steven.”
“It was her decision, she said she couldn’t bear the thought of Marc with someone else.”
“So, is he blaming me? Are you?”
“No, it was her decision, we could have made it work.” you could have, really, but if she wasn’t up for it.
“Alright then, Mr Accent. Let’s not talk about your ex on our first date. Tell me about you. You obviously know a lot. You might be able to help me.”
“Help you?”
“Yes, you see, I am really interested in my past, I’m still not sure where I got my powers from and I want to find out.”
He looked interested like a new quest just opened its doors for him.
“How much do you know?”
“Besides the name of the orphanage I grew up in, nothing.”
Then his eyes changed.
“Hi Marc.”
“I’m not angry at you, you didn’t make Layla leave, but what are you doing with Steven?”
“Asking for help, that’s all.” you really had no other intentions but you understood that Marc was protective over Steven.
“I’m sure you will grow to like me. I like Steven he is kind.” Marc was still not sure about you. Then you looked up at the building behind him, he did as well as he saw Khonshu.
When he turned back, you noticed the change immediately.
“There you are” you smiled as he finally appeared.
“Who was it?”
“Both actually, she left them.”
“Good.” Jake called over the waiter ordering a steak.
“Don’t be mean, she was nice.”
“She didn’t fit me. You do.” Jake was always harsh you were used to it by now, it also rubbed off on you a little so now you were the same from time to time. “Now, Marc has to get used to the thought as well. And you will be able to move in as I asked you before.”
“Whatever you say, Babe.” you smiled as you drank from your wine.
Every flavour, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, you loved them all. And that is why you needed one immediately after the car stopped.
You knew you were there to do business, but you didn’t care.
And with your shake in your hand, you walked happily back to the car. Dodging the driver as he noticed you and opened the door for you.
You offered him a smile and a small thanks before getting in.
“Oh, that was fast.” You said noticing Harrow on the seat. You assumed it would take longer to get him from the hospital, hence why you went to get the shake. You moved to sit by Khonshu’s side.
“Y/N, but I thought you were dead.” said Arthur with a concerned voice.
“Everyone did. But its not that easy to get rid of me.” You smiled.
“So, what? Your wife is your avatar now?” asked Arthur with a grin you wanted to punch off of his face. He knew one God cannot be the other’s avatar, yet he still wanted to push your buttons.
“Meet our friend, Jake Lockley.” Khonshu said as he knocked on the window, rolling down the divider in the car, Jake shot Harrow.
It was over.
Finally, Ahmet was defeated. Jake finished what Marc couldn’t.
Then he started driving, and you finished your shake.
“I like your suit.”
“I know, Little Bird, you said it like ten times already.”
“Well, you look sexy in it, what can I say.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I like the modern world.”
“What do you mean? We used to live in a palace before all of that fell.”
“A palace without the modern food and way too much sand. I like it here.”
“Too much sand, we lived in the desert! My Dear Love, Y/N Goddess of War, you enjoy this time?”
“There’s more war in this world than it was ever. People hating each other, people killing each other is nothing new, but this is new.”
“You always enjoyed madness.”
“Goddess of War…duh.” Yet you never hurt anyone or judged them like Ahmet did, your love with Khonshu blossomed, he protected the night, the travellers of the night, you just watched over them. Even if war was your domain, murder can get boring after some time. While others didn’t see Khonshu, they saw you. It was a curse the other Gods put upon you when they banished the two of you.
Of course, you stood by your husband and they didn’t like that. So, when they banished you, they put a curse on you for people to see you. They said the curse was for the Goddess of War so people could put a face to their hatred.
It was a cruel curse but it had its benefits.
“What do you say, My Love, let’s go on a walk.” He offered and told Jake where to stop the limo.
London was very different from the desert you used to live in. You were used to palm trees, sand and small houses. And although you watched as humanity changed and grew, it still surprised you how much it did.
Parks, green grass, trees, fountains, lakes, people walking dogs, children playing, laughter and joy. It was not something you often stopped to watch, and yet there you were, sitting on a bench with Khonshu and Jake.
“You look nervous.” You noted as you looked at Jake.
“This is wasting time, we should be catching bad people.”
“Relax a little, tonight we hunt, for now, let her enjoy this. Get her some of that ice-thing.” Khonshu told Jake as he stood up to get you ice cream.
Jake was a good man, brutal and insane, but you did like him, he could be funny.
“You don’t have to order him around.”
“He cannot sit on his ass for more than two minutes.”
“Well, you did promise him that he could kill bad guys, you know he lovesto kill bad guys.”
You looked at Jake before turning back to Khonshu.
“He switched, it’s Steven.” You noted as the man looked confused when the guy asked him what flavour he wants. Khonshu disappeared from your side as you just watched Steven walk with the ice cream in his hand, he stopped in front of you. “You okay? You look lost.” You said, smiling at him.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He said before he walked away, leaving the park. Khonshu came back.
“There goes my ice-thingy.”
“I can get you one.”
“No need, I’ll get my own, but do answer one thing My Dear Husband,” you stood up from the bench, stretching your leg. “How do you plan on driving when our driver just left?” and with that you walked to the ice cream stand, leaving Khonshu to think.
Summary:Marc went through a lot already, good and bad, mainly bad, but with you came all the good.
Your pregnancy shook up Marc better than anything before. He never felt such anxiety as he did when you showed him that pregnancy test, and it was positive.
He was switching between himself and Steven a lot. Which you noted was due to his nerves getting the best of him. And just when you were about to feel bad about the whole thing, Steven calmed you, saying this was the best thing to ever happen to him and Marc.
Marc felt guilty for not being out more than he should have. He felt like he was leaving you all alone in this. And even if you said you don’t mind seeing Steven more and Steven did help a lot, Marc wanted to be there for you.
There were weeks, even a month when he didn’t even see you, it was all Steven.
“Marc, it’s okay honestly. It’s not like I don’t have anyone with me. Steven’s here and the baby.” you always told him, trying to calm him, but it barely worked. He was not convinced Steven could protect you if needed, it also didn’t help that Khonshu often asked Marc to go on missions.
Steven on the other hand enjoyed seeing you, he was scared, yes, but he was there to help and even went to the doctors with you. You often caught him talking to a mirror, hearing him tell Marc what happened while he was in control. He often showed Marc the pictures the doctors gave you, Steven even went to the lengths to show Marc your papers, stating everything was in order with the baby.
Then as your belly got rounder, Steven smiled a lot more, he touched your baby bump a lot more, begging to feel the little one move.
One morning something strange happened.
It wasn’t Steven and it was for sure not Marc either.
“Okay, looks like you know a lot about me, but I haven’t seen you, who are you?” you asked the man sitting in front of you drinking the coffee you made as he was talking about a cab or something.
“My name is Jake.“ He did look a bit offended, perhaps by the fact that you didn’t recognize him?
"Nice to meet you Jake.” you smiled. “I wonder…”
“You have seen me before, Babe, I mainly get in control during nights when you are already asleep. But we have been to the shopping centre together, usually I’m the one driving.“ Now it all made sense why Marc didn’t remember driving you all those times, you thought he was just joking.
"You’re the one leaving the flowers right? Steven just takes the credit for them.”
“Exactly, and you are pregnant, its ours right?” he asked so casually, so he knew he was one of Marc’s alters, but Marc didn’t know about him.
“Of course,” you showed the ring on your finger then pointed to his. “We got married last year.” you had a feeling Steven and Marc didn’t know about him.
“I remember, we danced. I don’t remember the baby-making though.” you were a bit confused as to what did he see or when was he present.
“Living with three different people is challenging even for me. Not even I’m sure who I was with during that time, but it doesn’t matter.”
He smiled and nodded. “That is true, the baby is ours, and you are our wife.” He turned his attention back to the meal in front of him
“Do you love me?” you asked suddenly.
“I do. You are always kind and you keep me calm. You are also stunning, Babe, pregnancy looks amazing on you. We should have more children.” You smiled and believed him, being with someone who has two other identities is strange, but there was something exciting about it as well.
“Let me push out this one first. Then the four of us can talk about another.” You said as you got his plate and started doing the dishes.
It was like, the same eyes looking at you, yet they were all so different. Marc, Steven and Jake. You wondered how it will all work out once you have the baby.
Jake looked like the kind to get things done, like he was to do the things Marc rather not. Jake would be amazing to have in the room when you give birth, he was even calmer and more collected than Marc.
But somehow, you loved them equally. They were all so different, yet the same.
They were all so gentle, kind and kept you safe.
Marc always promised to fight off whoever decided to even look you the wrong way. Steven made you tea and brought you snacks when you needed anything. And Jake, Jake brought you to places, driving you around, showing you around London, bringing you to parks.
They were all so different, yet they all loved you the same.
And you just knew, they will be amazing father’s for your little one.
You were his first follower and you were given your price for that.
You were the first to ever make him think differently, to see humans as they were and not just the bad.
You were the only one to even steal his heart.
Khonshu, the God of the Moon. Not many liked him, but he was okay with that. During the ancient days, while other Gods and Goddesses hair temples, statues and even tombs raised for them, he wasn’t loved.
No one cared for the God of the Moon as he was feared. Night was his domain, and everyone knew only bad things happened at night.
And yet, there you were, nothing but a young miss in your house’s humble little garden, after a long day at work, looking at the sky, dreaming about it, seeing the stars and the moon, you fell in love with the night sky.
And so, you found Khonshu.
Or rather he found you.
He became interested more so when he first heard prayers. Your voice rang in his head, even if he didn’t know it was you at first.
He wasn’t used to people praying to him.
But he thought he could get used to hearing your voice every night.
Then, he headed out to find you, walking in the desert as he heard your words ring in his head. Your prayers were simple and kind.
It didn’t take long for Khonshu to find you. One evening, he noticed you as you watched the sky, you looked so happy, comfortable and unbothered. Not like the others during the night.
You made him interested.
In your prayers, you wished for health for your family and friends, in case of trouble you prayed for the people involved to be safe.
He noticed how you never asked for anything for yourself. Never. Not once.
Until one day, which he couldn’t ignore. You begged for your mother to be saved from a disease.
“Please Khonshu, please save her and I will do anything you wish for.” You said as you were crying and praying in front of a candle and a small wooden sculpture of Khonsu that you made with your own hands.
“Anything?” he asked at it made you just so quickly that you knocked the figure over. You looked at the huge God standing in front of you, you felt like you were going mad, but it was him, no doubt, Khonsu was standing right in front of you and you suddenly knew what you needed to do.
You knelt on the floor, eyes fixed onto the ground.
“Anything.” You said with a shaky voice.
“For your mother’s life, I will take yours in exchange.” A cold wind ran down your spine from his words. “You will be by my side, you will dedicate your life to me. You do notquestion my decisions, forever till the end of time.” He said.
For your mother, you’d do anything. For your mother’s health this seemed like a small thing in comparison. To dedicate your life to a God, just when you thought your life would have no point.
“Of course, Khonshu.”
—
Days, months, years, decades, centuries passed.
And you were still by his side. After a couple years you were sure Khonshu would get bored of you, but it never happened. He really wanted you by his side.
You were through it all. His little priestess. You were there when the Gods decided they won’t walk with the humans any longer. You were there when they decided to take avatars and when they all banished Khonshu because of his beliefs.
You were there by his side when another god tried to take you away from him, jealous of the relationship you had with Khonshu.
But you were his.
Then, he started to take avatars. One after the other, although you were not a fan of his cruel methods, you were blinded by your feelings for the God of the Moon.
Something about his possessive nature made you feel incredibly safe and you really liked it.
Over the many many years, you grown to love Khonshu, you loved him for the God that he was and for the protection he gave you.
Seeing him in the modern world was something that made you laugh. As the world changed, so did you, well, at least your looks.
But seeing him standing next to a bus or watching as he sat on top of a big statue, when you always feared heights.
And he knew that.
So, one evening he brought you to the very top of the Empire State Building.
You felt sick.
“Please, can we just go down.” You said as you hugged a pillar, feeling sick to your stomach.
“Look at the view.” He said.
You opened one eye, barely seeing anything through your tears before you closed your eyes again.
“Beautiful, now can we leave please?”
He sighed before he put his staff down and grabbed your waist, pulling you away from the pillar, you hugged him instead. He was hugetowering over you like a giant. But you were scared. Extremely scared.
“You are safe with me, I told you before, I proved it to you before during the wars.”
“Yes, but this is very different. I’m terrified of heights and you know that.”
“Of course I do. I know everything about My Little One.” He moved and you tightened your hold on him. “But you have nothing to fear. The night sky will always protect you, Iwill always protect you.”
“I know that, but I am still scared.”
“Or you just like to hold me.”
“No, I prefer it when you hold me. Makes me feel more safe.” Just as you said that his arms moved around you, immediately making you feel a little better. Good enough to make you open your eyes, but you felt dizzy.
“Look at the sky. It will forever guide you to me.”
“Not like I’m allowed to leave your side.”
“No, but I found a new avatar. I have things to deal with.” You nodded, this wasn’t the first, nor will it be the last.
But you managed to take a look at the view from the top of the building, seeing everything and the people below you, you were scared, but him holding you so secure, you felt a lot better.
—
Technically, his next avatar wasn’t supposed to be Marc Spector.
You assumed Khonshu would hide you from Marc just as he did before, but surprisingly, he didn’t. Because when the man turned up in your home, you were both confused and happy.
Marc was a handsome man, yes, you weren’t blind, but he had so many inner demons, you just wanted to hug him.
“This is my wife, Marc so behave.” Khonshu said as he sat down in the corner where he always preferred to sit, to oversee everything.
Wife? Khonshu often called you by cute names. Little One or My Priestess, but he never once mentioned you being a wife or anything like that. Even if you basically was his wifehe never said that before.
Marc looked confused from the God at you, you looked like a normal human as you smiled and waved at him.
“Are you hungry Marc?” you asked.
“Don’t feed him, come here. Marc will think about his next step.” You smiled again at Marc before walking over to Khonshu, who pulled you to sit on his lap. He was completely showing off to Marc just whoyou belong to.
And Marc respected that.
He truly did.
Even in the upcoming weeks, months.
—
You knocked on his door, finding it to be open, so you went in. You never expected to see him almost naked on the floor with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He looked at the mirror, you closed the door behind yourself, you looked into the mirror but all you saw was Marc.
“Steven?” you asked as you knelt down next to him.
“No.”
“Oh, Marc. What happened?” you asked as you looked him over, trying to find an injury, finding nothing you let out a relieved sigh.
But instead of answering, he took a big gulp of the almost empty bottle.
“You can talk to me you know?”
“I know but Khonshu might not like that.” Of course Marc would be a hard egg to crack, but you had time.
“You know, I used to be human. I lived in Egypt with my family. My mother got really sick, healthcare wasn’t as great as it is nowadays. She would have died if it wasn’t for Khonshu. I gave my life to serve him, so she would live a happy life. That was my deal.”
“So, you are not his wife then.”
“Technically no. But in a way, I am. He wants good for us, he never once hurt me.” You grabbed his hand as he looked into your eyes. “He saved your life as well.” That made Marc scoff as he took another shot from his bottle.
“He tricked me. And used me.”
“Well, duh. He said he was looking for someone. Someone to carry out his work. Of course, he would use you to hunt people Marc. What did you think he meant? Tea parties and cookies?” Marc pulled his hand away from your hold as he tried to stand but he failed. “I know you are in pain. Even the blind could see that you are suffering, but you have to know you are not alone. You have Steven, Khonshu and me. The moon and the night sky will always be there to keep you company.” You offered him a kind smile. And just as the sun was setting and the moon started to rise, you knew Marc was about to leave for another mission.
And surely enough, he had his suit on.
“Thank you Y/N.” he said before he literally jumped out the window.
“You are too kind to him.” Khonshu said from behind you.
“He needs it. You know just how broken he is. Even the smallest push would make him lose it, and I don’t want to lose him.”
“Youlovehim?”
“I do. But my heart belongs to you.” You turned to look at the God standing in front of you.
“You belong to me.” He said and you nodded as he walked closer and hugged you. “Mine.” He said before the two of you headed to the roof, he left to look after Marc while you watched the sky.
Summary: You and Marc got married a long time ago, even before all this mess happened and he got the suit.
A/N: Potential SPOILER warning for those who don’t know about Marc in the comics.
Marc wanted to keep you safe.
The less you knew, the better it was. At least that is what he believed. But you knew it all.
You weren’t blind or stupid you noticed your husband changing, sure he was always a little weird, but you could read him like a book.
You could, yet it still hurt whenever he left you behind, telling you not to look for him, call him or so anything to even be close to him.
And you listened, you sure did.
Only sent him texts, to which he responded a couple of days later. Then a call came. Suddenly out of nowhere.
“Hi, Honey.” you said picking up.
“O-Oh Sorry.” the guy on the other end said with a heavy accent. It made you tilt your head and he quickly hung up.
You tried to call him back but he didn’t pick up, so you just let it go.
Then Marc came home, saying he will spend the weekend with you. And you were happy.
Happy enough to bring that strange call up.
“Soooo, are you going to tell me who the sexy English man was?”
He looked at you questioningly as he stopped the movie you were watching.
“You called me last week, I picked up but a British guy answered and after babbling he hung up.”
“Oh.” was all he said, and you just waited.
And then, slowly he stood up, sitting down at a chair by the table and started to talk.
He walked about his childhood, his life and his mental issues. He told you about his identity disorder too.
And it all made sense.
Your heart broke for him. Marc was such a great person, kind, affectionate and trustworthy. And yet, here he was breaking down like a child.
You on the other hand was the kind of person who would rather laugh than cry. And your aching heart needed a distraction.
So, after Marc finished explaining what happened to him, you sat there for a moment, thinking about what to say. And the best you could come up with was.
“So, you are like a two for one special?” you asked and Marc just stared at you. “You know like those special offers in stores. I got you as a husband but I also got Steven and Jake, or how does that work?”
This was probably the first time in your life that you have seen Marc confused and not sure what to say.
“Don’t get me wrong your trauma is awful, I’m here if you want to talk about it more. I’m just not sure how to help. Maybe Jake or Steven wants to talk?” he just blinked, and it made you sigh. “Did I say something weird again?” you had a tendency to say weird things when you wanted to defuse the tension. But you two just stared at each other.
This went on for about five minutes.
Then he finally moved his arms from his legs.
And he laughed.
“I can’t believe you said “like those special offers in stores”. Who do you think I am?”
“You’re my husband, and I just want to know, how- IF this will change things. D.I.D. is serious, Marc, and I just want to be sure you are at least okay.”
“You know I’m okay, Sweetheart. And this will not change a thing. I always will be okay as long as I have you. This-“ he said gesturing to his head. “Is something you have to learn to live with. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry, I was scared of your reaction.”
“You shouldn’t be, Marc. I love you, all of you. Even if they might not love me.”
Marc made a motion with his head like someone just told him something before he smiled.
“They do, at least Steven does. And you met Jake before.”
“I sure did. He is a flirty one.” you did, but you only realized now that it was him and not Marc. You laughed and stood up to hug him. He hugged your middle while you ran your fingers through his hair, slightly scratching his scalp. “Thank you for telling me all of this.”
“I love you. We love you.”
“And I love all of you too.”
You would be lying if you said you weren’t worried, of course, you were, but you also knew that you loved him and as long as you had him and he had you, everything will be okay.
Jake Lockley x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader
Summary: Your life with the three men was challenging but incredibly rewarding at the same time. All four of you were happy.
“Well, Jenna’s getting married.” you said as you opened the text on your phone.
“Who?” asked Marc as he looked at you from the TV.
“Jenna, an old friend of mine, we didn’t speak in like… Two years. Why is she inviting me then?” you said as you looked at the text again, confused. “Oooh.”
“What is it?”
“She is getting married to a guy I used to like. She wants to rub it in. Well jokes on her, I have three boyfriends now.” you said as you replied to the message that you are going to the wedding and you will bring a plus one. “You’ll need a nice shirt.”
“Do I have to? Really?” Marc groaned, dissatisfied with the news. Being Moon Knight meant he rather not go to elegant events, or play dress-up, but then there were you. You, who convinced even Khonshu to give him a break so he could spend time with you.
“Not necessarily has to be you, could be Jake or Steven.”
“Why do you want to go so badly?” Marc asked as you sat down on his lap, moving your arms around his neck as he held your waist.
“Because I have just the right dress and if she thinks I am the loser in this situation she has something else coming.” you smirked.
Marc loved how cheeky you could be, petty, yes, but he loved it.
“Okay, we go with you, but you take Steven, he’s the polite one.”
“Now, who says Jake isn’t polite?”
“The guy whose nose he broke last week for asking you where the train station was.” you giggled, Jake was extremely protective and jealous.
“Right, but I can’t have sex with Steven in the bathroom, he would never agree!” you complained and Marc rolled his eyes.
“Why would you want to do that?”
“It’s tradition!” you whined. “Everyone knows that.”
“No one does that Sweetheart, maybe a couple of people but not…” Marc knew there was no point in arguing with you. He knew better.
He also knew you’d get anything you wanted, and if you wanted to go to a wedding, you will.
—
Your dress was stunning, hugged you just right, making the boys’ mouths water when they saw you, you adjusted their tie. Steven was a babbling mess when he saw you, a Goddess walking over to him, he was sure he died again.
“Mi Amor,” said Jake as he fronted and started to whistle. “I’m sure we can be a bit late.” he said with a suggestive voice. He leaned over into your ear, “Me estás volviendo salvaje.” and just as he said that, Steven was back.
“Let’s go then.” you said smiling as you headed downstairs for the cab to take you.
The wedding was okay. You didn’t like them too much white which was used as decoration but it definitely wasn’t hideous.
“Jenna, congratulations,” you said as you put on your best fake smile for her, you were only there for the free food, drinks and to see your men in that suit that made them look just divine. “This is my boyfriend, Steven.”
“Hello, nice ceremony, congrats.” Steven was as polite as ever. With another smile, both you and Steven were off to the venue to get drinks.
Steven of course started it slowly but you were already two shots in by the time he lifted the wine to his lips. “Slow down, Love.”
“I can take alcohol very well. One time I drank a bottle of whiskey and barely felt it.”
You still managed to amaze him even after all these months. Steven looked up to the ceiling only to see that it was a glass roof, it was reflecting everyone, he saw Marc who smiled at you and shook his head.
“Of course she did.”
The evening went on quite well. Steven was sitting, watching people dance, including you.
“Dance with her,” Marc would often say to encourage Steven but he was too shy.
“Then let me take the body.” Steven heard Jake say.
“But don’t hurt anyone.” Steven made sure before Jake appeared.
You were dancing, enjoying your time wondering when the cake will arrive when you felt a very familiar pair of arms around you. You smirked.
“I was waiting for youu~”
“I know Mi Amor, you look delicious in this dress and the way you move…”
“I look and taste delicious just for you Mister.” you winked and it was his time to smirk.
“Vamos a salir de aquí.”
“No, I want to dance. Can I dance with all of you?”
And you did. Each one is so different and you loved them the same. Jake was holding you so close, Steven barely touched you and Marc was in-between, touching you a little but he never held onto you like Jake did.
The evening was nice, you were enjoying yourself so much, you forgot that you were at a wedding a couple of times.
You even managed to get Jake alone to the ladies bathroom for a good time. When you two were done, without a shame he walked out. Everyone knew what you two did in there, but like you cared. You needed some fresh air so you headed outside and stood by the pond.
Jake held you close as he kissed your neck. It was cute to see how sentimental he got after sex when he could be so rough with you.
“Let’s sit down.” he said guiding you to a nearby bench.
You looked at the people talking, laughing, drinking and dancing inside.
“Do you think you will ever marry me?” asked Marc, he didn’t even realize what he just said, it just came out. You looked at him, stunned. “I-I mean I already messed up one marriage so I’m not good at this but… you are different.” he looked at you, you could see it in his eyes just how scared he was of your answer.
He always said he was nothing but a broken man, but you knew that wasn’t true. he was kind, gentle and incredible.
“You will have to ask me with a ring. Only then you’ll get my official answer. But my unofficial answer is the same I gave to Jake when he asked me months ago, yes I will marry you.”
Marc wasn’t even surprised when you revealed that Jake already asked you.
You caught Steven in the reflection of the window looking at the two of you, happy.
“Maybe the next wedding we attend will be ours.” said Steven as he looked at you and Marc.
“Maybe.” you let out a sigh. Marc leaned over to give you a kiss.
It was short and sweet, it made you feel special. You even felt it when he switched with Steven.
“Love, they are about to serve the cake.” Steven said as he was afraid to ruin the moment.
But you stood up so quickly, it nearly gave him whip-lash.
“Let’s go then.” you held out your hand for him to take as you offered them a smile.
You were the one for them, from now on being by your side will be their life and future.
Jake Lockley x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader
Summary: After Layla left, Marc wasn’t the same he felt betrayed as Steven moved on so quickly, he didn’t blame you for this, he never could.
Marc was a hard egg to crack.
While Steven warmed up to you rather quickly, he loved to talk and you loved to listen to whatever he had to say. Egyptian Gods? Lore? Myths? Tombs? Sure, you were all in.
When Marc was in charge, you often just stayed behind, avoiding him, you felt bad about making Layla leave in a way, but just as you said, you are not willing to leave Jake behind. Never.
While you stayed low around Marc, with Steven you felt at home.
He was warm, kind and shy. Something you loved teasing him with.
Even your slightest sexual comment would make the man blush and stutter, it was cute.
Extremely cute.
You spent more time in their flat as well. Even when it was Marc, you stayed there, reading a book, cooking or watching his fish.
“You should get a third one.” you said one time, forgetting that it was Marc for a moment.
“I know, you already said that to Steven.” he said with a rather calm voice, he usually talked to you in a rough way, but not this time.
That was the time you realized that while Steven was in charge, Marc was still conscious and could hear and see everything Steven did.
Not like that would change your behaviour.
Then there was Jake, your lovely brutal murderer whom you loved so much.
Khonsu still instructed him on who to kill and what to do, and he followed, and so did you. It was actually quite a nice routine.
You helped Jake during the night, then you would get back to his place, have sex on whatever surface you felt like doing it at that particular moment and then fall asleep in each other’s arms. Then you’d wake up with Steven, get over the awkward stage of him being flustered because you two are naked, make breakfast and he would go to work while you just walk around London, trying to catch anything unusual with Khonshu. You would usually go pick up Steven after work, you two either go to a restaurant or get groceries to cook something.
It was a nice routine, comfortable and warm.
You loved it really.
If only Marc could get used to you as well.
Today, it was him, he woke up and headed to work. He was the one who gently pushed you away as you walked into the kitchen to greet him in the morning.
And you had enough.
You had enough of the fact that you constantly had to walk on glass around him.
You had a plan.
A terrible plan, but you had one.
One morning, Marc woke up and he was expecting you to be there. But you weren’t, not in the bed, not in the bathroom or the kitchen.
“Maybe she went out?” asked Steven in the mirror.
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do! Stop lying to yourself Marc, you like her! As much as I do if not more! I saw you with her during the nights when you run your hands all over her face and kiss her. I saw it all.” Steven’s words hurt Marc on a level. Like a teen getting caught kissing their pillow.
Marc knew there was no point in lying to Steven.
“She loves Jake, don’t forget that, not us.”
“Jake is us. he is a part of you just like me. If she loves him, she loves us.” Steven always made it sound so much easier than it really was. Marc was supposed to be the strong one, but it was Steven really.
“Go find her.” said Steven as he turned in the mirror in the bathroom. “Tell her how you feel, you know she avoids you because of Layla.”
Marc knew that, he knew very well he behaved like a child whose toy was taken from them.
He didn’t blame you for what happened, he blamed himself, his feelings for Layla were not strong enough.
He wondered if his feelings towards you might be stronger.
—
You stood in front of the museum, waiting for anyone really, Jake, Steven or Marc. Just someone to finally show up as they were late.
You contemplated heading up and into the museum but decided against it. You rather not embarrass yourself or anyone.
You looked at the sky and let out a groan.
You pulled your phone out and dialled Steven.
“Hello?”
“Steven! What’s going on? I have been waiting for you to finish work for the last…30 minutes.”
Silence.
“Love… today’s my day off. I told you that.”
He did. You just forgot. Shit.
“Oh,” was all you said before you hung up and with a simple motion teleported yourself to his home.
You scared him as he flinched nearly dropping the fish food he was holding.
“What the- You can teleport?!”
“Yes. I thought you knew- Oh, Jake knew.” you said as you took your coat off.
“And you have been making me run around London looking for stuff when you can just go and be there in seconds?”
“Yes, but it’s hard to explain to people how can a person just disappear into thin air. So, what did you do today?”
“Nothing really, fed Gus, watched some telly. What about you?”
“Good. I was just with Khonshu, he thought he had a lead but didn’t. You could have come with me! I forgot this was your day off.”
“Naah, I was fine here, I also did some shopping, got you some snacks you like.”
“Well, thank you kind sir.” you walked into the kitchen only to see dinner was ready. “And you made pasta?! Steven, you are just… wow, okay I’ll get on my knees for you, come here.” you said as you smelled the incredibly delicious food.
“Y/N.” now, that wasn’t Steven, you looked back to see Marc.
“Hi Marc. I was about to give Steven a good time, if you could switch back…"
"I wanted to talk.”
Oh boy. This never meant any good did it? You went out of the kitchen and sat down on the table, pushing away a couple of books in the process.
“I’m listening.”
Marc took a deep breath before he looked into the mirror. You knew Steven was saying something to him.
“One day I’ll crack that and I will be able to see and hear him in the mirror.” you said more to yourself but it made Marc look at you. Your powers always amazed him to no end.
You were so powerful.
“That’s-You could do that?”
“I have been trying to. I figured out a couple of things, there are certain things I can do to make you switch. I noticed music is a good trigger for example. Or food. Whenever you eat something, Steven likes to be in control.”
“I didn’t know I could… trigger it like that.”
“Oh, you could. I noticed when danger was near, Jake reacted too fast even I wasn’t able to. Then once the job is done, you or Steven are back.”
Marc’s mind was blank, what could he say to that? He looked in the mirror but Steven was stunned as well.
“Anyway, you wanted to talk about something.” you said as you crossed your legs and put your hand on your knee.
“Yes. I did. I don’t know how to say this, but I noticed you have been avoiding me, like now, you sat down so far away as if I was to break if you are closer, but I won’t. My mind might be broken but my body is strong.” that made you smirk a little, oh how you knew his body was strong. “Not like that.” he said trying to get back to his point. “I noticed this and I know it is because of what happened with Layla. I said this before I don’t blame you for what happened. Jake is his own person and he found you, you two fell in love, great. And now Steven too. And-and I think… I do too.” he said the last part with such a silent voice you had to really listen to understand.
And you did. And it shocked you.
“You do? You like me?” it was strange to think he did. He wasn’t exactly nice or rude to you. He was just… there. Marc wasn’t really talkative with you, he never asked you anything besides ‘What’s for dinner’ or 'Where’s the shampoo’ but, you did like him.
“I do like you yes, and I am over with pretending I don’t. I over running away from my feelings. This-this is something that physically pains me you know. When I see you smile or laugh with Steven and you don’t do that to me. And God knows what you do with Jake.”
“More than laughing.” you confirmed and he nodded.
“I want to do that too. I want to laugh with you, watch movies with you, go to dinner with you, cook with you and sleep with you. I want it all but only if you want it too.”
“You know, for a long time now, Jake always told me to stay away from you two, that you two had someone and I wouldn’t want to get mixed up in it. I don’t know if he wanted to keep me to himself because he was possessive or because he wanted to protect you two from the trouble. But I was never against it. Mental issues or not Marc you are an amazing person. Steven is a great example of it, who wouldn’t love a man like you? You kept Steven safe for so long. And to have you all three, it will be a challenge but… I helped kick a big purple alien’s ass, I think I can handle you three. You boys will have to learn to share.” you smiled and you saw the switch this time. “Only if you agree, Jake.” he rushed over to you putting his arms on each side of you, locking you in as you move your arms around his neck.
“I knew you could do it. I told you they will love you.” he leaned over and smirked as you turned and his nose hit your cheek. “Mi Amor, déjame besarte por favor.”
“You are too handsome to resist you know that? But I was kind of in the middle of something with Marc.” his eyes shined, to finally have the others love you as well, Jake felt like he won. And he did. He made them fall for you and he didn’t even have to do anything, this meant you would be by his side at all times. Just like he wanted. “Solo un beso más.”
You could do that, you turned your head and let him kiss your lips. He moved his hand around your hips as you dropped your leg, letting him take a step and pull you to the edge and into his body.
You moved your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer when he froze and stopped.
You pulled back out of confusion and looked at him.
“There you are.” you said, smiling as you saw Marc but you didn’t let go of him.
“Uhm, were you with Jake just now?”
“Yes.”
“O-okay he kind of switched right before the kiss and then I just went with it but then I… panicked."
"It’s okay, happens with the best of us.” you smiled and tried to pull him back but he didn’t let you.
“I really like you and I don’t want to mess it up as I did with Layla, you are special to me.”
“And you are special to me. All of you.” he smiled and you melted, that man had a gorgeous smile.
“Steven’s yelling at me to kiss you.”
“Oh, then why won’t you, or why won’t he?” you looked into the mirror behind you two but only saw Marc.
This was going to be a journey, having three boyfriends in one body, you were prepared for jealousy, but you were also prepared for the good.
Marc leaned in to kiss you and you ran your fingers through his hair, he melted into your touch, Jake also loved it when you played with his hair.
Now this, you really liked this. A place that once wasn’t too warm finally left like home. A man who wasn’t always the kindest to you, melted into your kiss.
Later that evening you were watching a movie with Steven and Marc, they both kept switching according to who wanted to talk at that moment. You were watching a rather gruesome horror.
“That’s not realistic. If you cut a limb off like that you’d bleed out in seconds.” Marc said.
“Thanks, Mate, appreciate it, all of us wanted to know that.”
“But what if you cut it off with like a really hot knife? Would it burn the flesh and stop the bleeding?”
Steven looked at you, eyes wide as you so casually popped a chip into your mouth.
“OR, what if it’s freezing cold outside? Wind and all, would the blood freeze?” You looked at Steven from the TV, seeing his shocked face. “What?”
“What are you doing?” Khonshu’s voice made you jump and so did Steven as he yelled in fear.
“Fucking HELL, Khonshu! STOP scaring me!” you said to the god as you threw a bag of chips at him, you watched as the bag bounced off of his chest onto the floor. Steven laughed a little.
“We have to go, I have a new target for my Moon Knight.” you looked at Steven and paused the movie.
“Let’s get this over with.” you stood up, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go, he won’t leave us alone until we go,”
It was now Marc in charge. “You can take this Jake.” said Marc as he switched.
“Vamos, mi amor. Entonces podemos tener sexo."
You laughed as Jake pulled you out of the flat through the window.
This was definitely a new adventure and you were all up for it.
A/N: Thank you everyone for the support on Part 1, I don’t plan on turning this into a long series but if I get an inspiration I might do a part 3, I’m thinking perhaps a wedding or a child would fit into my story. Let me know!
Jake Lockley x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader
Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of losing virginity, mention of Smut
Summary: Getting into a disagreement with Marc was something you wanted to avoid, but Steven took over and after a mission, he wants to try something out.
It all was so silly.
Fighting over something that was a part of them.
Even if Khonshu healed their wounds, even if he was always okay, it still worried you.
They were still human. Even if they were an avatar. Seeing that bleeding cut on their arm or bruise on their ribs, hurt.
Even when you watched those heal in a matter of seconds, and you could heal them just as quick something about the particular purple bruise on their leg made you crazy.
You didn’t mean to yell, you didn’t mean to get so carried away.
Then Marc switched, and you could tell it wasn’t his choice.
“What’s wrong, Love?” asked Steven who you assume didn’t listen in the last ten minutes. He looked stunned as if he was forced to be out, and you were partially sure he was.
“I had an argument with Marc.” you admitted as you went to Steven, tears in your eyes, you put your hands on his shoulders. “I’m just so worried. Almost every night we go out, yes your wounds heal but, it still hurts to see. But Marc, please I’m not her, you don’t have to hide from me."
"Oh, Love it’s okay, we understand you are just worried, now lets all just calm down and watch something while I hold you okay? Would you like that?” Steven was too sweet, you nodded drying your tears off, and you let out a long sigh. You moved your hands, grabbing onto his shirt.
“I don’t know what happened to me, I’m sorry.”
“No one likes to see the person they love in pain.” Steven pulled you in for a big hug, running his hands up and down your back to calm you.
“I love all of you so much.”
“We love you too, you know that.”
The moment was one of those where you just wish you’d stay there forever.
“Are you two done?” Spoke up Khonshu behind you, making you jump even when you felt his presence.
“FUCK OFF!” you yelled. “Why do you always have to ruin every moment!”
“I do not!”
“Yes, you do! Last time me and Jake tried to have a quiet night, you barged right in!”
“You say quiet night, but you were really loud, I thought it was okay-”
“It was not!”
Steven blushed, still not used to you being so bold and open about intimate things.
“Doesn’t matter, I have a new job for my Knight.” you rolled your eyes.
“Okay, you can go. I’ll stay this time.”
“Why?” asked Steven. “Don’t you want to come as well?”
“Nope, I can feel this is an easy job and I can always go if you need me later, I’ll order some food and I have some leftover ice cream, I’ll be fine.”
“A-About the ice cream…. uhm…You see…”
“You ate it?” Steven nodded. “I suggest you leave this apartment in 0.1 seconds Steven Grant or I might do something I’ll regret.”
And he did.
—
And you were right, it was an easy job, well and easy job for Moon Knight that is. Khonshu found a human trafficking cycle and wanted to shut it down.
“I’m back, Love!” said Steven as he climbed through the window. You were having a shower, as he heard the water running.
“This will be good, give me the body,” Steven heard Jake speak up, “No, I have to apologize to her.” barged in Marc. “Let me have my fun, Amigo!”
“Hush, both of you, this time I’ll be in charge.” this surprised both, Steven was more of a cuddler, he prefered to come out after sex to give you hugs and kisses, he was never in charge during the act.
“Are you sure?” both asked at the same time and Steven nodded at the men in the reflection.
Marc and Jake decided to stay quiet. They wanted to give Steven the illusion that he was alone with you.
Steven was nervous, extremely nervous. He considered himself a virgin. He heard and saw everything Marc does but he was never the one doing it.
He let out a long sigh before he headed to the shower, he failed to notice that the water stopped running.
And out you came with your hair in a towel while only wearing one of their shirts.
“You were quick. How did it go?” you asked.
“It went well. Y-You know… I was thinking…”
“Yes, why are you so nervous Steven? You look like you’re about to explode.” you joked but his serious expression made you change your tone. “Did something happen?”
“No! Not at all, Love, we are all fine, we saved the good people, its just… It’s usually Marc or Jake who’s… with you after.”
It took you a solid minute to realize what he was saying.
“OH, you want to have sex?”
“Make love.” he corrected you immediately. “Love… I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But I do like it rough you know!” Steven’s eyes widened. “Hey! I know you are different Steven, and I know how difficult it is to even talk about this, but I’m patient, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can wait.”
“I’m ready it’s just. I know what to do, I think, I have seen it but…”
“I can help you.”
“I know that but I still want to be manly!”
“Masculinity is overrated, I do like to be manhandled from time to time but if you’d like I can take the lead, we can take it slow, dim the lights put some awful movie on for background noise.”
“I’d like that.”
And the two of you just stood there for a couple of minutes, unsure.
“I should have got you flowers or chocolate or something. This is so awkward. Maybe I can’t do this.”
“Steven, honey, please.” you walked up to him and slowly started to guide him over to the bed, you pulled him down by the neck and kissed him.
—
You were out of breath as you rolled over and off of Steven, he was breathing just as hard as you were.
“You are amazing.” he said and you smiled.
“I know.” you moved your head onto his chest. “So, how was your first time?” Steven was clearly still under the effect of the afterglow, he smiled and looked at you.
“Amazing. You really are a Goddess.”
“I am.”
“Do you still want to find your parents?”
“EWW Steven! NEVER mention parents after sex, fuck.”
“Sorry! Oh, I ruined it all didn’t I? I’m sorry.” Steven sat up making you sit up with him and when the blanket fell from your chest he blushed and pulled the blanket up but he accidentally touched your skin, making him start to shake a little.
“You didn’t ruin anything. You are perfect. I love you.” this was the first time Steven ever heard you say “you” not “all of you” just “you” just him and he wanted to cry. You leaned over and kissed his shoulder as he moved his arm around you.
You swore if Khonshu was to ruin this moment you’ll paint his beak with glitter paint!
“I love you as well, Love.” he turned his head as a tear formed in his eye and he needed to dry it before turning back to you, he was so happy he felt his chest get tighter.
The movie on the TV ended and it was really quiet now.
“Do you want to do it again?” you asked as he placed his head on your shoulder. He laughed a little.
“I’m a bit… overwhelmed at the moment, Darling.”
“I get it, it’s okay. Also, I don’t want to find my parents or my past. All I want is a future with you. That’s all I care about.” you kissed his temple as he pulled you close, you felt his tears fall onto your chest but you knew they were happy tears.
“Thank you.”
This was the first time when you weren’t sure who said that. You were convinced it was all three of them, but Steven was still in charge.
You held him for a long time after that, Khonsu didn’t arrive to ruin the moment and soon, you were sleeping in Steven’s arms.
This was your future, by the side of these amazing men, and for them, you’d do anything. You’d even pretend to not know about the velvet box hidden amongst the books, you’d pretend not to know about the dinner reservation at a fancy restaurant and you’d pretend to be surprised by his question when he will ask you.
You love them all too much, and they love you way too much as well.
A/N: I really hope everyone enjoyed this mini series! I might continue with short blurbs after this, we will see, currently I’m working on other stuff but I do want to thank everyone who enjoyed this series! ❤
Prompt:pulling your lover into your arms, kissing their cheek as you comfort them (requested by anon for my 3k follower celebration!)
Warnings: fluff, neighbor!reader, mention of nightmares, hurt/comfort, kisses, sweetness, pining, brief appearance by Marc too
Notes: Even though this fic is not explicit, my blog still is so please do not read or interact if you are under 18 thank you. Thanks so much for the request anon, I loved this prompt so much!! And it works so well with Steven cause he deserves the world!! I have an update only blog too to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates
~
A pained scream woke you up from a peaceful dream and immediately you were on high alert. Without hesitation, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door as another scream echoed against the wall you shared with your neighbor, Steven Grant. This wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to the sounds of his agony while he slept, but this time seemed more urgent than before. Quickly, you grabbed your keyring, which included the spare key he gave you, and bolted out the door.
“Steven?!” you pounded at his door first. Dread filled your mind as you heard him yell and thrash around inside, “Steven, I’m coming in!” you called through the door as you slid the key in with shaky hands.
Blissfully lying in a deep sleep, you remain unaware of the torment Steven is enduring whilst standing at the end of his bed, watching you with a small smile crossing his lips.
“But it’s Y/n.” Steven moves away from his bed, not wanting to risk causing you to stir. “She’s my best mate, Marc.” Facing a mirror, with slumped shoulders, Marc runs his hands over his face in annoyance.
“She can’t know anything, Steven.” Marc reminds his counter for the fifth time this evening. “It’s not safe for her to know, she’ll be in danger because of it.”
Yet, it doesn’t seem to matter how much Marc drills the point into Steven. The moment his head turns to look back over at you, curled up on top of his bed with your eyes closed and a pillow close to your chest, he just can’t help himself.
“I tell her everything, Marc.” Steven begins, unaware of Marc rolling his eyes. “She’s the only one in the whole world who doesn’t think I’m some kind of nutter. She’s trying to help me with this sleep disorder, and even when I told her that she didn’t leave me.”
And then it clicks. Marc shifts in the mirror, catching a glimpse of the expression across Steven’s face. His eyes soften, his frown reduces and his shoulders are no longer slumped.
“You’re in love with her.” Marc resolutes.
A breath leaves Steven’s lips. “Yeah, I think I am.” He admits. “Which is why I don’t want to lie to her, Marc. We can trust Y/n.” He presses further, approaching the mirror once more.
“It’s just not safe,” Marc starts, but Steven cuts him off.
“What? Because of Layla, huh?” Steven retorts sharply, noticing Marc’s jaw tensing.
“Don’t go there, Steven.” Gritting his teeth, Marc can halts, sensing something shifting.
“Steven?” A tired voice calls out, causing Steven to snap out of his thoughts and turn abruptly on his feet, rather clumsily, to face you.
Walking toward you, Steven perches on the edge of his bed, unable to stop his heart from almost leaping out of his chest as you rub your eyes. “You alright?” He asks softly, unsure of his own voice.
Nodding, you sit upright. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to nod off. I was listening to you, I swear, it’s just Donna really pissed me off today and I,” Cutting yourself off with a yawn, you hold your hands up in annoyance. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, love.” Steven can’t stop himself, it’s too late to take it back.
His eyes widen at the realisation. ’Too late to take it back now, buddy.’ Marc remarks.
“Is everything okay, Steven?” You ask, swallowing your own heartbeat from his comment. “Have you been able to sleep at all tonight?”
And there it is, one of the reasons he can’t help but fall in love with you. You’re forever checking on him in a gentle way, always ensuring he’s okay and if he’s not, you’ll try to help in any way you can.
Shaking his head, you shuffle from your spot to sit beside him.
“There’s something I’ve not been honest about,” Steven begins, his voice shaking. He glances up to see a reflection of Marc on a framed poster, frowning at him.
Without thinking, you take his hand in yours. “Hey, it’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.” Your thumb brushes across his hand, soothing as ever.
“No, I am.” Steven tells himself more than you. “It’s all just too much.” He tries to remain confident, but his walls are breaking down.
“Come here,” You mutter, helping him to lie down on the bed and into your arms. “let’s just try and get some sleep, yeah?” His head remains on your chest, breathing in your scent now mixed with his from the sheets.
Closing his eyes, he can feel Marc’s comments subside. “Y/n?” Steven speaks up, opening his eyes to look up at you.
Your soft gaze fixates on him as you lift your hand up to brush his curls away from his forehead. “Yeah?” Whispering back, a tired smile forms on your face, causing your eyes to crinkle slightly.
The words fail Steven. “Thank you.” He tells you instead, before lowering his head back down, holding back the tears threatening to fall.
“Any time, Steven.” You’re unsure if he can hear how fast your heart is beating, and if he can, he might be ignoring it. “That’s what mates are for.” You remind him, closing your eyes to drift off once more.
marc knew he couldn’t avoid the inevitable forever. there was always going to be a point where you would want to meet steven, even if it wasn’t in the most conventional way. (1.5k)
all the fluff in this one, cause i’m a sucker for soft steven and marc
The silence between the two of you was too loud. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and he dreaded this day.
“So,” You start, “it’s always going to be like this, huh?” Lifting your gaze upward, you hear him hum in response.
“He’s not ready to know, baby.” His arm tightens around your waist, causing goosebumps to once more erupt on your skin and a smirk to form on his lips.
Sadly, this doesn’t bring you much comfort as you slink out from his embrace, something Marc didn’t anticipate. “You’ve been saying that for months, Marc.” The short tone in your voice makes him wince internally.
The truth is, Marc believes you deserve better. He doesn’t want to involve you further into his life, into his situation because he knows one day, you’ll just get up and leave. But of course, he’ll never express this aloud. So instead, he just pushes it away.
“It’s the truth, Y/n.” Marc retorts. “He’s still coming to terms with,” He pauses, unable to say the name as it burns on the tip of his tongue.
Steven’s sleep pattern has become significantly worse and Marc’s control has been transient. He knows it won’t be long until he clocks on, but until then, he has these moments with you.
Noticing the hesitance, you reach out and take his hand into yours, placing it on your lap. “I know.” You mumble, tracing patterns in his palm, avoiding his focus. “But I don’t want us to always be like this, spending fleeting moments and only late nights together.”
“What if,” Marc begins a suggestion, noticing your eyes focusing on him solely and your lips turning upward. “okay, I’ve got an idea.”
You don’t respond immediately, and Marc curses himself for a stupid thought.
“Go for it, Spector.” Taking his hand, you bring it to your lips, kissing his torn knuckles, smelling the copper from them.
*
It was a good idea, in Marc’s defence. But being here in front of the entrance, you started to second guess yourself and whether you were ready for this, despite wanting it for so long.
“Come on, we haven’t got all day!” A woman calls out from behind you, quickly followed by a group of school children who rush inside the Museum with wide eyes of awe.
Following the class of students into the Museum, you too share the same sense of wonder for the interior and history lining the walls. “No wonder he loves the place.” You think aloud, passing the children as you head toward the Egyptian exhibition, knowing that it’s a good starting point as any.
Through your wander, you can’t help but think back to Marc when you last saw him. He too was nervous about you meeting his alter, knowing it’ll be strange for you, whereas Steven will be oblivious to the deep meaning of it.
“Just be yourself, okay babe?” Marc asks of you, now sitting in your flat rather than on the rooftop.
Sipping your drink, you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “And why would I be anything else? He’ll love me, I think.” You second guess jokingly, catching a concerned expression in the corner of your eye.
Clearly lost in your thoughts, a child bumps into you and falls over consequently. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Immediately bending down, you help the little girl to her feet. “Are you alright?”
The child in question nods hesitantly, her lower lip quivering. “I lost my class.” She sadly admits.
“Oh dear,” You sigh softly, looking around to see no other children in the same coloured jumper. “well, let’s find a member of staff, okay? I’m Y/n.” Introducing yourself, you walk alongside the young girl in the direction of the reception, only for her to gasp in awe at the sight of stuffed cuddly toys.
“A crocodile!” She yells, running into the gift shop without giving you a chance to react.
Blindly following the child, your ears perk at a chuckle. “Gotta be careful with that one,” A Londoner comments, and as you lift your gaze up, your heart almost stops in your chest.
His curls part differently, somehow his face softens as he wears a gentle grin and slouches his shoulders but those dark eyes are always the same.
“Steven.” You mumble, noticing his lopsided name tag.
“Why? It’s just a crocodile.” The child shrugs, noticing you approaching whereas Steven keeps his attention on the stuffed toy and the child’s interest.
“Well, you might think that, but it is actually the Goddess Ammit,” Steven’s hands begin to join the conversation and you watch his face light up.
Marc always told you about how expressionate Steven is and once you got him started on Egyptian history, well, there was no stopping him.
Entering the gift shop, you catch the frustrated look of a blonde woman storming toward Steven and the young girl. “Stevie!” She barks. Noting the name tag, it clicks in your head who she is. “What have I told you ‘bout pestering the visitors?” Crossing her arms over her chest, she huffs loudly leaving Steven to stammer a response.
“Sorry,” You interrupt, apologetically smiling at Steven whilst trying to control your heart beating at the sight of him.
Yet, as your attention averts to Donna, you miss the way Steven’s eyes widen and his lips part. 'She’s beautiful.’ He thinks to himself, unaware that Marc is thinking the exact same thing.
“I ran into this little one, pretty sure she’s been split up from her class and I was just trying to find someone to help.” You explain.
“Right,” Donna sighs again, evidently unimpressed as the little girl sways her school bag in front of her. “let’s find your teacher then.” She begins to walk away with the girl who waves back to you and Steven.
“I er,” Steven speaks up almost immediately, knowing someone like you doesn’t frequent these sort of places often, and by these sort of places, he means in a room with him.
“Thanks for that.” You motion to the child trying to match Donna’s quick march. “She’s a bit much, right?” You chuckle, noticing a breathless laugh leave his lips.
“Yeah.” Steven comments. “No matter how many times I say, it’s Steven with a V.” He points to the name tag. “That’s me, by the way. Steven, with a V.”
Your stomach flips and your head aches with the difference between him and Marc. Yet, your heart warms for Steven, knowing how much he means to Marc.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Steven with a V. My name’s Y/n.” You introduce yourself, now walking further into the gift shop whilst Steven mumbles your name under his breath, hoping he never forgets it.
“Y/n, it’s well, welcome to the gift shop.” He rambles, unsure of the words forming and leaving his lips. “Not much of great value, and I wouldn’t bother with the sweets, they’re a bit naff.”
Chuckling, you approach the counter to find the sweets in question, shaped like beetles. “I’ll have you know, gift shops are always my favourite part of any place.” You playfully admit, hearing Steven rush from behind to stand at the counter, resting his elbows on the ledge.
“Really?” Steven can’t help but ask, surprised as you nod.
“I like getting souvenirs of significant places.” Picking up a postcard with the Pharaohs on it, you place it on the counter along with a bag of beetle sweets. “And this seems pretty significant to me.” You add, smiling up at Steven whose cheeks begin to burn at your comment.
Unsure what to say, Steven rings up the items. “I, I s'pose so.” That toothy grin makes an appearance, causing your knees to almost buckle. “Thanks for stopping by, Y/n.” He places your receipt on the counter, sliding it toward you.
“Thanks for the help, Steven. I’m sure you’ll see me around.” You wave, taking the sweets and postcard in hand.
Once out of sight, Steven chuckles to himself in disbelief. “Y/n.” He repeats your name under his breath, hoping that you’re true to your word and come back sometime.
Taking your phone, you begin to text Marc, knowing when he takes over he’ll want to know if and how it went.
“Kids,” Donna barges past you, muttering under her breath, not giving you any recognition as she makes her way to the gift shop.
'I think it went well. :) see you soon.’ You can’t stop the smile on your lips as you wander further into the museum, hoping to visit Steven again soon.
“Stevie! It’s time for your break.” Donna enters, snapping him from his thoughts.
Nodding, Steven walks out of the gift shop and into the inventory room, knowing it’s the one place he will have some peace. With you still fresh on his mind, he takes out his phone and dials her number.
As it normally does, he ends up listening to the voicemail message. “Hi Mum, I think I might’ve met someone,” He starts and begins to explain wistfully whilst Marc watches from the framed photo of the Gods with pride.
— STEVEN GRANT FINALLY HAD TO ADMIT TO HIMSELF THAT HE NEEDED HELP. Professional help that is, it took a while for him to understand that he was at his limit for a mental breakdown. He knew he needed to talk to someone other than the statue man on the street. Someone who would actually respond to when he ranted and well, he searched around for a therapist and found you.
Steven was quite nervous to start therapy, any person was really. To share your vulnerability was scary and Steven only ever been vulnerable with the lively statue by the fountain. His heart pounded in his chest as he shifted on his feet staring at the door with a frosted plane window with your last name on it. Steven was muttering underneath his breath trying to convince himself to go in.
“Don’t be mental, you need this Steven. You just need help.” Steven whispered to himself, staring at the plane, he saw the reflection shift a bit but he didn’t move. He brought the back of his clenched fist to his eyes and rubbed them furiously. “I definitely gone mental.”
With his series of muttering gradually becoming louder, suddenly, the door opened causing him to jump in his spot, taking a step back. Your head peeked out the door with furrowed brows and parted lips. Steven felt his breath caught in his throat staring at you with wide eyes. You were simply breathtaking. The way your [color] eyes stared at him in curiosity but with such softness that made him drown in those hues, losing himself all over again.
The way your hair fell over your face and your plump lips quirking into a soft smile. “Oh! You must be Steven Grant!” You beamed happily, opening the door more and stepping by the door frame. “I heard noises out here and I thought one of my neighbors was disturbing you.”
summary:marc sees the world in your eyes. too bad he doesn’t realize that you see the exact same thing in his.
a/n: *gif is not mine, it’s from pinterest* listen as much as I love writing some toe-curling, nail-biting marc smut, it was time that I write a next-level fluff/angst fic for him (because he deserves all the love in the world). I have a ton of asks that I promise I am getting to, along with my mr. knight smut, it’s just taking me a lil’ bit. also, I have no idea why this took me so fucking long to write?? so, here it finally is, enjoy x
warnings:YEARNING to the max; this shit is angsty; pining (marc thinks it’s one-sided, but it’s not) readers still oblivious??; mentions of abuse; swearing; self-deprecation; fucking pain; but lots of fucking fluff; they’re so in love; steven grant: wingman of the year
And Marc knows pain. He’s experienced it in all forms; has seen it manifested into everything he’s known, and everyone he’s loved.
He’s felt the ache of being on the brink of death and the guilt of still being alive. He’s felt the loss of his brother and the torment of his mother’s wrath. He’s felt the sting of his actions as a mercenary, and the numbing of his mind through Khonshu’s control.
Butthis is new.
Because your presence is painful. Yes. But his love for you is debilitating.
Summary:Marc Spector can’t bake, but for you he’ll try. You and Marc bake cookies together… among other things.
Angst, fluff, smut (the big three)
Pairing:Marc Spector x f!reader, hint of Jake Lockley and Steven Grant x f!reader
Warnings:Sad Marc, DID, Oral sex (f receiving), Not edited
A/N:I just think Marc needs some more love, and I’ve been baking to deal with stress. I’m still working on requests, so if you’re waiting for one, it is coming!
–
Marc Spector has no idea what he’s doing. There’s an egg about to roll off the counter, and he reaches out and catches it with the instincts of a superhero.
Because that’s what he is - a superhero not a baker. Except that for you he’ll be anyone, do anything. That includes telling Khonshu to fuck off for the night so he can bake chocolate chip cookies and try to have a nice date with you. You who have been talking about these stupid cookies all week but have had no time to make them.
He sighs and returns the egg to it’s container. This is useless. He wanted to do something nice for you, but all he’s accomplished is making three trips to the store.
“Just fuck. That always goes over well.”
“Jake, mate,” Steven sighs. “He’s trying to be romantic, considerate, show his love.”
Marc ignores their squabbling, turning back to the recipe on the back of the chocolate chip bag. Flour, salt, butter. No milk. Why the hell does he have milk out then? He picks up the carton and fixes it with a harsh stare like it’s the milk’s fault for messing this all up.
That is how you find Marc when you come home. You walk into the kitchen and sit on the table, legs dangling in the air while you watch Marc stare down a carton of milk.
“What did it do?” You ask when you realize he hasn’t noticed you.
He turns, and his eyes glow with moonlight for the briefest instant before he realizes it’s just you. His harsh, irritated expression turns into something else as he looks you up and down.
“You’re early,” he mutters.
“It’s five-thirty,” you reply with a laugh; it’s the same time you always get home.
He glances at the clock, “Shit!”
You’re still trying to figure out what emotion he’s wearing as he returns the milk to the fridge and runs his hands through his curly hair. Frustration. Maybe a hint of sadness. Disappointment, but with who? Knowing Marc, probably himself.
“Marc,” any hint of humor is gone. “Are you alright?”
“I’m-” his throat bobs as he swallows hard. “I’m fine.”
Your gaze catches the bag of chocolate chips behind him, something you know for a fact was not in your apartment prior to today. You know because you had searched for them desperately for days and craving chocolate chip cookies more than anything in the world for the last week. Marc follows your gaze, and when you meet his eyes the words come spilling from his mouth.
“I wanted to make you these stupid cookies. You talk about them every night, and you’re always doing so much for us, for me, and- and I wanted to do something for you.”
Marc’s lips are falling into that little frown that means he’s about to cry. This isn’t about chocolate chip cookies or Marc’s lack of cooking skills, you know that. Marc isn’t the type of man to be driven to tears by a failed baking experiment. He is the type of man who feels like he can never be enough, never be good enough for the people he loves.
Marc is glancing at the reflective surface of the microwave; you know he is trying to get Steven, or maybe Jake, to front right now.
“Marc,” you reach for his hand and pull him close to you.
Before you can utter another word, he buries his face in your neck. His arms circle your waist, holding tightly. He is shaking, crying. Only a few times have you seen him this vulnerable, and each time Marc had made Steven front to avoid this exact situation.
You wrap an arm over his shoulder and run your free hand through his soft curls.
“You do so much,” you murmur. “It means a lot that you thought of me.”
He holds you tighter but doesn’t respond. His body is warm against you as he cries, and you can only stroke his hair, sometimes brushing your fingers across his cheek or jaw. The soft press of his lips to your neck makes you shiver. It tickles. He does it again, then again, then leans back. A few tears are running down his face, and you reach out to brush them off. You hold his face between your hands, but he’s not looking at you.
“You are enough, Marc Spector. I love you, and you are enough.”
“I really tried,” he eventually whispers and looks up at you through his lashes.
You move a stray curl from his eyes and kiss his forehead, kiss his nose, kiss his lips. His cheek, his jaw, the lines around his eyes. You pepper kisses everywhere, the best way you know to show this man love, until he grabs your face and kisses you with a bruising intensity. Marc works his lips against yours, molding your bodies together until you’re both panting and he pulls back. His hands rest on your hips, your hands on his chest.
“You’re wonderful,” he smiles, and though his eyes are still red-rimmed, you can tell he’s back from that dark place of self-hatred. “I love you.”
The curl is back, the dark hair always falling across his forehead no matter what he does. Cookie ingredients are still spread out on the counter behind him, and though you would love to take this handsome man to bed right now and spend the rest of the evening tangled up with him, the temptation of the cookies is too strong.
“I can teach you how to make them,” you nod to the ingredients. “We can do it together.”
Marc slides you off the table and kisses you on top of the head.
“Okay. Teach me.”
You set Marc up measuring dry ingredients into a bowl while you pour sugar and crack eggs. You laugh when he bumps his hip into the counter, swears, spills the bag of flour everywhere.
“You think that’s funny,” he growls, eyes shining with amusement; he loves how you laugh.
“I though you’d be more graceful, Moon Knight,” you tease, grinning.
Mischief flashes across his face, and he grasps a fistful of spilled flour. You jump back, but he smears flour across your face, spilling it down the front of your shirt.
“Marc!” You protest, but it is half-hearted.
Any further arguments are cut off by his kiss. His dirty hands leave prints all over your body as he presses you into the counter, peppering your face with soft kisses until he finds your lips. If not for the beep of the oven you would have kissed Marc Spector all night. He leans back at the sound, and you duck under his arm to get back to baking.
Marc slides up behind you, holding you around the waist with his chin on your shoulder so he can watch you work. He kisses your cheek each time you move, and when it’s time he adds ingredients to your bowl as you stir, his arms still trapping you against the counter.
“Chocolate chips,” you request.
Reluctantly, Marc moves away to find the package of chocolate and adds it to the dough. His dark hair is now smeared with flour, so is his face and his clothes. You’re probably no better off, but seeing the usually tough man covered in baking ingredients and wearing a goofy grin makes your heart flutter.
“Now what?” Marc asks.
There’s no cookie scoop in the apartment, so you hand him a small spoon. You show him how to scoop the dough and roll it into a ball. As you slide the cookies into the oven and set a timer, you notice Marc starting to take the bowl to the sink.
“Wait!” You call.
He turns back to you with that one eyebrow curved up.
“We’re supposed to eat that.”
“The raw cookie dough?” He questions.
You nod and pluck the bowl from his hands, scooping out a bit with your spoon, and popping it in your mouth with an innocent smile. He is fixated on your lips.
“Focus, Spector,” you tease; you’re fully aware of what thoughts you have evoked in your boyfriend as you offer him the spoon. “Cookie dough?”
“Not what I’m hungry for,” his voice has dropped to a low rumble as he smirks down at you.
If his earlier softness went right to your heart, this goes right to your pussy.
“There’s only seven minutes on the timer,” you warn.
“I can work with that,” he grabs the bowl from your hand and tosses it onto the counter. “Bed.”
Marc has you out of your pants and flat on your back in seconds. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed so your legs dangle over the edge, and he kneels between them. His eyes are dark as he palms your thighs, his breath tickling your center as he looks to you for confirmation, consent.
You nod, and just like that Marc buries his face in your cunt. He’s licking and sucking, using his tongue with a skill that always shocks you. His broad nose brushes against your clit, and for a second you’re distracted by the question of how he breathes when he’s going down on you. It’s just for a second because a moment later his tongue is flicking at your clit, drawing delightful little circles that have you squirming.
Marc is absolutely smirking as you meet his eyes and a soft breathy sound escapes your throat unbidden. Warmth coils in your stomach as he devours you like he is a starving man. You’re so close. He leaves one hand at your thigh, keeping your legs apart, and uses the other to push two fingers into you with a slowness that is borderline torturous.
“Fuck,” you whimper and reach for his hair, getting a handful of those soft dark locks much to Marc’s delight.
He curls his fingers and presses deeply into you even as his mouth settles over that spot you love. You can feel that tension building and building, warmth pooling in your stomach.
There’s a roaring in your ears as you cum, throwing your head back, shutting your eyes, twitching around his fingers and moaning his name quietly, your whole body shaking as that warmth spreads out from your center. He fucks you right through it, only pulling back when the pulsing has stopped and you begin to squirm away from the over-stimulation.
The timer beeps just as he sits back. Timer? Shit. You’d forgotten about the cookies.
“I got ‘em,” Marc presses a kiss to your inner thigh and stands while you simply lay back and catch your breath.
Water runs. The oven door opens. The stove beeps. A few seconds later, Marc flops heavily into bed. You peek your eyes open to look at him. He has a cookie broken in half, offering part to you. You turn on your side to look at Marc, taking the cookie but really focused on the former mercenary whose eyes are wide with delight as he bites into the desert, chocolate smearing his lips as he chews.
You would stop the Earth from spinning to see that look on Marc’s face again.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He finally notices your expression.
“You have chocolate,” you answer awkwardly to evade the question and gesture to his lips.
His smile is mischievous as he leans forward, kissing your cheek and leaving a chocolate stain on your skin.
“Marc!”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He repeats the question.
“You look happy,” you whisper.
He pushes you onto your back and tucks his head into your shoulder, smiling against you.
Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader (hints of Marc Spector x female reader)
Summary: Something strange is going on with Steven. Or alternatively: how you fix your relationship by giving Steven the sloppiest office blowjob ever.
Rating: really fucking explicit
Warning/content: unease around male character, inappropriate office behaviour, blowjob, semi-public sex. Please do not attempt to re-enact this, it will land you with HR.
Word Count: 9.3k (guys this was meant to be a short interlude… idek)
You’re naked in your boyfriend’s bed—the very same bed where he took you apart some hours ago, desperate, worshipful mouth pressed tight between your thighs. But now he’s staring down at you, that very same mouth set in an almost-disdainful line, eyes flat and blank.
It’s like looking in a funhouse mirror and seeing a distorted reflection of reality. So many of the peripheral things are the same but the essence is different somehow. Off in a way that has your heart pounding loud in your ears.
The difference is jarring in the same way that the still-healing wounds on his torso are. Though in this low light, the bruising on his shoulder and the cuts across his chest don’t look nearly as bad as they did when you first saw them. Was it just the shock of their existence that made you think they were worse than they are?
He clears his throat and you realise with a start that you’ve been silently gawking at his chest for the last several minutes. When your eyes fly to his face, you find him poorly suppressing an amused smirk. He’s never looked at you like that before; you weren’t even aware his mouth was physically capable of curving into such a snide expression.
You don’t know what to say to him. To this stranger of a man who has replaced your sweet, awkward Steven. Don’t know what to do with yourself either. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights, covers still clutched to your chest.
His brows draw together, head tilting slightly to the side as he regards you, dark eyes sharp, almost predatory in a way that makes you feel exposed and vulnerable, like an insect pinned to a display board. Your breath stutters in your chest, and a wave of goosebumps raises the hairs along the back of your arms.
Something is wrong, and you want it to stop. And if it won’t stop, you need to leave.
But calmly. Years of experience with drunk blokes in pubs and with overly-handsy coworkers tells you to act normal. Make an excuse. Wouldn’t do to alarm him.
“Is… um… is your insomnia flaring up again? I should go. I… really need to be getting home anyway. Early morning at work, you know.” You’re babbling nervously, can’t seem to stop as you start to gather up your clothes. You hurry as much as you can without letting go of the duvet, unwilling to lose the only barrier of protection you have against him.
“I’ll… um… Just let me–” you stammer as you scoop your ruined tights into your handbag and grab your boots. You back prickles uneasily and you have to force yourself not to look over your shoulder and see if he’s still standing there watching you. “I’ll just get dressed and be on my way.”
You don’t look at him or wait for a response. Things in hand and bedding still wrapped firmly around yourself, you scuttle across the flat like a deranged hermit crab, relieved to find that the doorway you spotted is, indeed the loo. You retreat inside, closing the accordion door firmly shut behind you.
Encased in the darkness of the small room, you listen anxiously for any noise from the rest of the flat, but all you can hear is your heart beating loudly in your ears. You fumble blindly with your handbag, pawing through the keys and makeup and all the other odds and ends that seem to accumulate despite your best efforts, cursing yourself for not being more organised.
Finally, after an infinitely long moment of listening to your breathing come faster and faster as you search, your hand closes around your phone, and you yank it free. Your fingers are clumsy as you thumb it open, turning on the flashlight so you can find the pull cord for the bathroom light and tug it down until the room flickers with a jarring glaring brightness.
You squint down at your phone, and the familiar background screen of you and Steven looks back up at you. Something akin to guilt floods your chest when you pull up the Uber app to secure a ride home—ETA: 6 mins. It’s followed immediately by relief.
You need the loo, but you feel too exposed to actually sit down for a pee while starkers. It’s ridiculous really, this isn’t a Hitchcock movie, and logically you know that no one is going to attack you from behind the shower curtain. Still you opt for dressing yourself as quickly as you can.
Fully clothed and with your escape route secured, you feel a tiny bit better, but the tightness in your chest refuses to dissipate fully.
You use the loo and wash your hands. Catching sight of yourself in the tiny mirror above the sink, you run a quick hand over your hair before giving it up as a bad job, less worried about your looks than… than… What is it that you’re worried about anyway?
Standing there staring at your reflection, peaky and fretful under the harsh light, you wrap your arms around yourself and wonder what the bloody hell is going on with you. You’re being ridiculous.
It’s just Steven, right? Your sweet, caring Steven. Except it’snot.
He hasn’t really even done anything untoward, and yet here you are, your heart in your throat, ready to jump out of your skin at the slightest provocation.
He was just so oddly still. Loose and almost… relaxed in a way you’re not used to from Steven.
Maybe that’s it, you tell yourself, trying to pluck up the courage to open the door to the rest of the flat. People sometimes act differently after sex. (Case in point: whatever is going on with you right now.)
Maybe this is just what Steven is like once he finally lets himself relax?
The thought warms you, makes the tightness in your chest relax marginally. But the warmth fades as soon as you open the door to find him standing in the middle of the room, staring at you.
He’s dressed now as well in the well-fitted t-shirt and dark jacket, so different from his usual oversized clothes. You note absently that it’s a good look on him, but the thought never truly takes hold because you’re too focused on his eyes, just as piercing as before. Another shiver works its way up your spine. This isn’t just your imagination.
Something is wrong with Steven, and everything inside you is screaming that you need to get out of here.
Now.
“I’ll just… um… wait downstairs, shall I?”
He says nothing, and you’re glad, even though that’s wrong too. Steven always offers to walk you, but this time you’re just as happy to be away from him that much sooner.
You’re uncomfortably aware of the weight of his eyes on you as you make your way to the door and start to unfasten the frankly ridiculous number of locks and deadbolts. Even for London this is a bit of an overkill, isn’t it?
Once you finally get the door open, you flash Steven one last wave and a quick, “see you around.” You duck out the door before he can reply, shutting it gently behind you. Resisting the urge to let your head thunk forward against the wood, you turn and head for the lift, still feeling odd about the whole interaction and vaguely on edge.
What was that? Why do you feel more like a witness fleeing a crime scene than a woman bidding a fond goodnight to her boyfriend?
It doesn’t help your nerves that the hallway is dark and empty and one of the lights keeps flickering, lending the whole space an eerie feel. You almost wish you’d asked Steven to walk you down, but you want your Steven, awkward and openly affectionate, not the odd, mostly-silent man you’ve just left behind in his flat.
You reach the lift and punch the call button, prompting a deep hum as the machinery starts to move. You’re staring at the bright red LED light indicating which floor it’s on, willing it to arrive when something grabs hold of your wrist. Hard and unyielding. The persistent grip makes you flinch, jerking your hand back and spinning around to confront… Steven.
He’s right there behind you, looming over you, looking impossibly large and menacing, and your heart hammers in your chest. You take an involuntary step backwards and clutch your bag to your chest. Your back bumps up against something cold, and you nearly shriek before realising you’ve backed into the door of the lift.
God, what is wrong with you tonight!?
It’s just Steven, you tell yourself, willing your rabbiting heart to slow down. (But it’s not. Something inside you is still screaming that this is not your Steven. His eyes are wrong, his stance is wrong, his fucking hairiswrong.)
And you don’t know what you expect (theworst. Oh god, since when have you expected the worst from Steven?) but it isn’t for him to take a step back and hold his hands up in the universal gesture of harmlessness.
Harmless… right. What a laugh. Right now he looks anything but. Except…
He regards you steadily, eyes dark in his too-serious face. He’s still too still, too… much to be your Steven, but…
There’s something about the way he’s giving you space. The way the stillness is deliberate now, controlled. He’s not trying to make himself smaller—not the way Steven always does—but he’s holding himself back. The power obvious in every line of his body is being restrained in an effort to reassure you, and it’s enough to overcome the worst of your irrational fear.
There’s a tilt of his head, as he gives you a nod, one that seems to say, ‘that’s right. You’re okay.’ And as those dark eyes burn into yours, you can almost bring yourself to believe it.
He seems to notice too, something shifting subtly in his face. His lips curve up into a small smile, but even that is wrong… almost condescending. And he tips his head slightly to the right.
It’s then that you notice your cheap watch hanging from his hand, the stupid thing looking tiny and delicate in his thick fingers.
Oh. Oh God. You’ve made a right idiot of yourself, haven’t you? Embarrassed warmth floods your cheeks. He must think you’re a complete nutter, overreacting like that over the return of a wristwatch.
Your eyes shift from your watch back to his face, and there’s something—the slightest quirk of an eyebrow or maybe the way that one corner of his mouth ticks up higher—that turns the expression cruel, like he’s having a laugh at your expense.
The heat spreads and prickles up over the back of your neck, making your ears burn. You’re not even sure anymore if it’s nerves or embarrassment or something else entirely, but it rubs you the wrong way all the same, and annoyance comes to the forefront.
Narrowing your eyes, you send him a look that would ordinarily have Steven withering, but it only seems to amuse the man in front of you.
“Thanks,” you tell him flatly, not quite daring to pop off the way you want to. Instead you hesitantly step forward into his space to grab the watch from him. The band pops apart—of course it does—leaving you each holding half of the useless thing, and you have to scramble to grab the other half from his hand under his taunting gaze.
What is wrong with you? What is wrong with Steven!? God, you just want to be done with this and far, far away from here.
Like the answer to your prayers, a loud ding sounds out in the silence, heralding the arrival of the lift.
The doors open behind you, and you back in, unwilling to take your eyes off the man who continues to watch you with the same expression of condescending amusement. Once you’re far enough in, you punch the button for the ground floor, and give him a perfunctory wave as the doors close between you, breathing a sigh of relief once the lift begins to move.
Still, it’s not until you’re safely ensconced in the uber on the way back to your flat that you feel like you can finally take a full breath again. And as soon as you do, doubt floods into you along with it.
What in the bloody hell was that!?
Why did you react that way? Somehow, in the veritable sea of red flags lining the road of your relationship with Steven, nothing else has set you off like this.
The whole thing seems surreal, and the farther from Steven’s flat you get, the less sure you are of what happened. Was he really even behaving oddly? Or were you the odd one for overreacting—practically having kittens over your boyfriend… what? Not fawning over you the way he usually does or nattering on about one of his interests in the middle or the night?
Your logical mind is scrambling for some rational explanation: It’s not outrageous to think Steven might be out of sorts because he couldn’t sleep. Or perhaps you had an unremembered bad dream, and the anxiety bled over into wakefulness. Half two in the morning is not anyone’s best hour.
But the way he looked at you there at the end, like you werenothing to him…
No matter how you try to explain what happened or excuse it away, the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach remains the same. As does the fact that, for a bit there, for whatever reason, you were afraid to be alone with Steven.
And that’s a giant fucking red flag if you’ve ever seen one. One you don’t know if you can get past.
You don’t get any sleep that night, and the entirety of the following workday is a fog. There’s spreadsheets and Team meetings and more spreadsheets, and thank God none of it requires your active brain capacity, because you have none to give today. Your thoughts are entirely preoccupied with last night, and trying to decide what to do about Steven.
The logical part of you votes for cutting your losses and ending things now before you get in too deep. Part of you thinks it’s already too late.
Your phone pings from your bag, and despite your uncertainty and everything that happened last night, your heart still skips excitedly at the thought that it might be Steven. Fishing it out, you unlock it, anticipating a text from Steven; expecting him to be checking in on you the way he always does.
Except, it’s notSteven.
Instead it’s an unsolicited picture of an unimpressive specimen of male genitalia taken under the most unflattering fluorescent bathroom light possible. Definitely not Steven.
Hello, unwanted dick pic #13.
God, this is what you would have to look forward to if you break it off with Steven, isn’t it? A return to the dystopian, post-apocalyptic landscape that is the London dating scene.
You don’t want to go back to unsolicited dick pics; questionable men, who are either lying about their marriage status or their profile picture; and blokes who leer at you like you’re a piece of meat hanging from a hook in the window display of a butcher’s store.
But most of all you don’t want to go back to dating strange random men, because you want to be dating Steven.
YoulikeSteven.
You like his puppy dog eyes, and his awkward adoration, and his enthusiasm. You like the silly texts that he sends you throughout the work day— random photos of cute dogs on the Tube or Egyptian artefacts with captions full of lame puns and emojis and the reason why he thought of you.
You like all of it.
You like Steven. You like Steven a lot. Before last night, you might even have said you were falling in lo– (No. No, you’re not going there. Not right now.)
But last night was… not good. Quite bad, in fact, wasn’t it? You can admit that now. In the space of that last quarter hour with Steven, he made you feel scared and… and… small. And you don’t know how to deal with that from someone you’re supposed to be able to trust.
Don’t know if you even want to try.
God, you’re a mess.
You shoot yet another glance at the wall clock, but it’s still not half five.
You’ve spent the last several hours counting down the minutes and seconds until you can clock out, but the more you check the time, the more it seems to drag on until you think the hands must be clinging to the face of the clock, slowing time itself just to taunt you.
It takes an eternity and a half but then, finally, the clock ticks over.
You gather up your belongings in a daze and bid your coworkers an absentminded goodbye before wandering off to the lift. You stare at your own reflection, distorted in the metallic sidewall as the lift descends, still fretting about Steven.
Do you want to break up with him? Keep seeing him? How the bloody hell are you supposed to know when you don’t even know what it will be like when you see him again?
When the doors open on the ground floor, you can hear that there’s some kind of commotion taking place at reception.
“Sir, I’m going to ask you one final time: Who are you here to see?” The no-nonsense voice booms through the entrance hall of your office building
Susan, the loveable old battle-axe of a receptionist, is giving some poor bloke a hard time again. Nothing unusual there. You can hear her barking out, “If you don’t give me a name right now, you’re going to have to leave. This isn’t a bus stop, alright?”
“Sorry, Sorry.”
Oh God. You recognise that voice.
“I’m not loitering or anything dodgy like that. I’m just waiting for my… girl–uh… lady… um… friend.“
Rounding the corner, you see him.
Puppydog Steven has returned. He’s wearing another novelty print button down and a hangdog expression. Back stooped and hunching into himself, he’s standing in front of the receptionist desk, holding a bouquet of roses the size of a carnival prize in front of himself like a shield.
“Steven?”
At your voice, he turns towards you, hunching further over into himself like he’s bracing himself for a blow. As you approach, you can tell he’s nervous and unhappy in a way you haven’t seen since your first date, and your first thought is that something awful must have happened, because of the contrast between last night and now beggars belief.
“This one yours then, love?” Susan asks, still eyeing Steven like he might be about to make off with the electronics.
“Yeah, he’s um… Yeah. Thanks, Susan,” you flash her a placating smile, then turn to Steven.
“Steven, what’s wrong? Why are you—,” but you don’t even get the chance to finish the question before he interrupts you.
“I’m sorry. Oh God,this is why I don’t— Sorry, sorry. I–” The words are disjointed, tripping over each other in his hurry to get them out, but clearly some sort of garbled apology. “Look, if I– If I did something last night that made you uncomfortable, I’m– Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
In your peripheral view you can see Susan, working studiously at the corner of the reception desk that offers the best position for her to listen in on your private conversation with Steven. You’re acutely aware of various other onlookers who seem to all have found reasons to loiter in the reception area as well. Unless you want to be the star of the workplace gossip blasted in the office kitchen tomorrow morning, you need to move the two of you somewhere less public, and quickly.
“Susan, can you block off one of the meeting rooms for me?”
She gives you a slightly dubious look, and for a moment you think she’ll refuse. Susan lives for any morsel of gossip to keep her entertained. But to your surprise, she does you a solid without any further prompting.
“Room 10, pet.”
“Thanks. I’ll owe you one.” You flash Susan a grateful smile and make a mental note to get her one of those fancy coffees she likes from the cafe around the corner for brekkie tomorrow.
“C’mon.” You grab the cuff of Steven’s shirt and tug gently.
Steven follows your lead, allowing you to pull him with you down the hallway of conference rooms. Rounding a corner, into a more secluded bit of hallway, you follow the corridor until you reach the last door in the row. The one to the conference room that affords the most privacy.
Swinging the door open, you all but shove Steven inside before closing the door behind the two of you. You flip the lock to ensure there are no unwanted interruptions before turning back to Steven.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he starts again as soon as you’re facing him.
“Steven,Steven. It’s alright,” you interrupt, attempting to reassure him, because God, he looks miserable—every inch the cowering puppydog, just waiting for the kick he knows is coming—and you can’t bear for him to look like that.
But he just shuts his eyes like looking at you is painful. He shakes his head, the set of his mouth all misery, and then your heart skips a beat when his eyes snap open and lock onto yours with an intensity that’s startlingly reminiscent of the night before.
“I just– Look, I— You’re the best bloody thing I’ve had in my life in a long time—maybe ever—and… and last night was amazing. Better—way better—than anything I could’ve ever imagined.”
He’s so open, so honest, gazing at you with large, pleading eyes. You feel yourself melting despite your earlier indecision on whether you should be done with him, especially when he continues.
“Last night was perfect,” he says with fervent conviction, but then falters and looks down, apparently shy. You feel your heart squeeze at how adoring he is. “At least, I thought so. You were perfect. And I got to fall asleep with you, which was perfect too. But then I woke up and you were gone. And I’m afraid I’ve bollocksed it all up somehow, the way I always do. Good ol’ Steven, can’t pull a bird to save his life, let alone hold onto one. And it never mattered so much before, but now it does because it’s you, and…”
And he’s still talking, but you’re stuck on one particular part of that word vomit.
He said… he said that he woke up and you were gone. But that’s not right. You know that’s not right. He woke up before you, so clearly you were still there! Does he… not remember?
You almost ask. Almost say so directly, but something holds you back. Some lingering fear prevents you from bringing up your last unnerving middle-of-the-night encounter. An absurd worry that you don’t dare mention that other, wrong Steven for fear of summoning him back.
Instead you interrupt Steven’s rambling to probe gently, “I was gone when you woke up?”
Steven nods.
“Yeah, this morning. Must’ve worn me out ‘cause I slept straight through.” He gives you a small shy smile that fades quickly when you don’t return it. “Was nearly late for work.”
You’re still reeling, your mind stuck on the bit where he doesn’t remember interacting with you in the middle of the night at all. (Maybe the idea of it being not your Steven isn’t so far-fetched after all?)But Steven doesn’t give you any time to consider; he barely even pauses for breath before barrelling on.
“I don’t blame you for leaving, of course, but I can’t help thinking that I must’ve–” he cuts himself off, gaze dropping to the floor like he can’t bear to look at you. “Look, you… you have to know by now. How dodgy my memory is sometimes. Missing dates or showing up on the wrong day and all that, yeah? Sometimes things happen that I don’t remember. I do things that I don’t remember. And I can’t bear–”
He breaks off, swallows hard, and finally looks up to meet your eyes. His gaze is serious and direct in a way that almost reminds you of last night, except that there’s no hint of that dreadful, supercilious amusement.
“I can’t help thinking that I must’ve done something, and I’m– I’m sorry if I– Sorry. I– Just please.” His eyes are huge, round and still so open and honest, and there’s something else there too as he continues, “Please tell me that I didn’t do anything to hurt or upset you.”
Fear. It’s fear you’re seeing in his eyes and written across his face. You recognize it now, and you think your heart might break over how scared he looks. Completely terrified over the idea that he might have hurt or upset you.
“Steven… ” You hesitate, brow furrowing as you trail off, not sure what to say or how to describe what happened last night.
“Oh. I– Oh.I did, didn’t I?” He looks vaguely sick at the idea and starts to back away, the hand holding the roses dropping to his side as he hunches into himself all over again, spewing apologies twice as fast as before. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m– Oh God,what did I do? Whatever it was, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t ever– Or would I? Guess I did, didn’t I? God I’m– I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine why I would…”
This whole conversation has been a lot to take in, but Steven is clearly distraught, set to go on self-chastising indefinitely for something that seems to be out of his control. You hate to see him this way—it’s painful to watch his quick descent into misery and self-hatred.
“Steven—Steven!” You try to interrupt his spiral, but he doesn’t even pause. You don’t know what to say to break him out of it, so you stop him the best way you know how.
Surging forward, you grab onto the lapels of his jacket to hold him in place while you press your lips to his. It’s a little awkward—Steven is still talking, mouth open when you make contact, and you misjudged the angle slightly—but it does shut him up rather handily.
His eyes flutter closed and he melts against you with a moan so sweet that you want to tuck it away in a keepsake box and keep it all to yourself. When you pull back a moment later, his eyes are half-lidded and dazed, and he’s wearing an expression like he’s forgotten how to carry out the simple task of breathing.
“It’s alright, Steven,” you soothe him and it is. With him anyway. You’re not sure what’s going on exactly, but you know you lo– that you care about Steven a lot and don’t want to lose him to… whatever it is that happened last night.
He blinks, gaze focusing slightly as he’s coming back to earth. Then he really looks at you. And the dazed confusion is coloured with something akin to hopefulness in those wide eyes.
“So, I didn’t… do anything to hurt you?” Those round, pitch dark eyes are so sincere. So ridiculously vulnerable like he was never introduced to the concept of self-preservation. Steven is the living embodiment of wearing his heart on his sleeves to the point where you worry for him sometimes.
You shake your head no, a smile tugging at your lips at the sight of him, because when that sincerity is pointed in your direction you can’t help the swell of affection in your chest.
And it’s true.
Hedidn’t do anything to hurt you. You were unsettled at worst, and you’ve got the beginning of a suspicion that somehow it may not even have been Steven you were dealing with last night at all.
“So we’re… um…” he pauses and licks his lips, hesitating, and you try not to get distracted by the way his pink tongue slicks over the swell of his bottom lip, “We’re good then, yeah?”
You nod, smile spreading wider despite yourself. “Yeah. We’re good.”
“You’re… You’re sure?” he presses. He’s still gazing at you with those dark puppydog eyes, uncertainty painted across every line of his face. One stray curl has furled up against his forehead as he bites down onto his bottom lip, worrying the plump flesh.
You reach for him without thinking, wanting to reassure him, and you pull him in to plant another short, chaste kiss against his lips.
Eager for you as always, Steven meets your kiss. Soft, warm lips pressed to yours for a long moment, and then he’s licking into your mouth with a hungry enthusiasm that has your knees ready to go out from under you. His free hand comes up to wrap around your back, and you bury your own hands in his riotous curls as he kisses you hard enough to bend you back over his arm.
Steven’s kisses are always ravenous, but this time in particular, he kisses you like he’s seeking salvation from your lips; like you’re water when he’s dying of thirst, and he’s determined to consume all of you that he can get before you change your mind.
You have to plant your hands on his shoulders, barely managing to pull away from his lips long enough to catch oxygen into your lungs. He releases you with obvious reluctance, and your knees are weak enough that you take a moment to be sure they’ll hold you before you take a step back to look him over, drinking in the sight of him.
Collar askew, curls a frantic mess over his forehead, kiss-swollen lips, just a hint of uncertainty lingering in those big, dark eyes. Fuck, he’s so damned gorgeous.
And okay, yes, you want to reassure him, but you’re certainly not opposed to messing him up a little bit more in the process. Messy is such a good look on him after all.
You sneak a quick glance at the wall clock above—6pm, after office hours.
There may still be some unlucky souls still working upstairs in the office space, but no one is going to be using these ground floor meeting rooms at this hour. No one except you, that is, and you know exactly what you want to do with that privacy.
Grasping Steven’s collar, you tug at it to lead him further into the room.
He follows without resistance, but clumsily, nearly tripping on the carpeted floor. Too busy staring at you to watch his footing. He’s like a puppy learning to walk on a leash, and it’s adorable.
You lead him to the mahogany conference table, and take the bouquet from his unresisting hand, laying it down gently on the table top before pulling out one of the large rolling office chairs. A bit of manoeuvring, and you’ve got Steven standing in front of the chair with his back to the door, just in case.
He gasps when you drop to your knees in front of him, and makes an abortive movement like he meant to catch you by your shoulders but was too slow, leaving his hand hanging there uselessly in midair.
The rough carpet scratches at your skin through your tights, but you keep your attention on Steven as you make quick work of unbuckling his belt.
You can see the moment it dawns on him exactly what your intentions are. His eyes grow comically large, tongue darting out in a nervous fit to lick over the swell of his lower lip.
“Wait, wait. What are you–? There’s people outside. We can’t do this here, can we?” He sounds scandalised, and it makes you want to show him just how scandalous you can be.
“It’s fine,” you tell him, nuzzling at the crotch of his jeans and breathing in the scent of him, before the soft whisper of the metal zipper being lowered fills the room.
“We shou—oh fuck, that feels so…—Shouldn’t be doing this though, should we?”
For all his protesting, Steven is already half hard, the incriminating evidence pressing against the front of his underwear. His throat constricts as he swallows, a nervous reflex.
You still, fingers hooked into the edge of his jeans and underwear, and peer up at him.
“Steven. Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” The response is instantaneous, accompanied by a vigorous shaking of his head. “I-I– Don’t stop. Keep… um… keep going, please. If you want to.”
“Good.” You tug down the jeans and pants down over the ample curve of his ass to his thighs in one fluid motion, and his cock springs free from the constraints, rising to slap gently against his stomach.
“Then sit down.” You wrap both hands around his hips and give the gentlest of pushes, but he drops down so forcefully it’s like you’ve tackled him.
He’s so distracted—eyes wide and shell-shocked and glued on you—that he nearly misses the chair, not quite making it square in the seat. The chair wheels squeak noisily, as his momentum sends it rolling backwards away from you.
You blink in disbelief.
"Oh bugger. Sorry, sorry. Let me just…” Steven, clearly mortified, tries to course correct, planting his feet to kick forward, but he miscalculates the trajectory and sends the chair into a spin instead. “Oh god, I’m so sorry."
Giddy relief fills your chest, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up in your throat. Dear God, why are things with the two of you always like this? It’s practically a comedy of errors.
Still, if there was any doubt before, it’s definitely gone now. This man—the man in front of you, awkward and fumbling and sweet—is your Steven.
You shake your head and climb to your feet, still smiling as you walk over to him. Planting your hands on the armrests, you force the chair to a stop. Steven’s horrified expression, now inches from your own face, nearly sends you into another fit of giggles.
“Stay,” you order with a fond smile. “Don’t move. Just relax, alright? I’ve got you.”
While Steven is normally very good at taking orders from you, this is one that he entirely fails to follow. His whole body remains tense, fingers flexing as they hover nervously in the air until you take them and guide them to the armrests where they grip and hold on tight.
You drop to your knees again and lean forward until you’re caged in by his spread legs on either side of you. Steven lets out a breathless gasp even though you haven’t so much as touched him yet.
On your knees like this, your face inches away from his cock, you get an up and close personal view that you weren’t privy to the night before. The head is flushed dark pink and it shines slick with the precome that’s beading at the blunt tip.
Even his cock is ridiculously pretty. It’s really not fair.
This close the scent of him is even stronger, clean, with a hint of musk and something altogether Steven. Parting your lips, you ghost your breath over him, relishing the way he practically whines at the sensation, his cock twitching and jerking, more precome welling out to drip down the impressive length of him.
So sensitive, your Steven.
You dart out the tip of your tongue to lap up the runner of liquid. It’s a barely-there touch, but from the sound he makes, you’d think you had punched him square in the solar plexus. The choked-out, pitiful sob makes the blood in your veins sing.
You do it again, just to see if he’ll make the same noise.
He does.
Then again, and he moans, long and breathless, and it shivers through you. Makes you want to see what other sounds you can pull from him. But first you pull back for a moment.
“Shall I continue then?” you ask, pretty sure you know the answer already.
“Yes, please. God yes.” His voice is breathless, desperate, and you can’t help the self-satisfied smile tugging at your lips.
You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and it jumps in your grip, thick and hot and throbbing against your palm. You love how reactive he is. Looking him in the eye, you drag your tongue against your bottom lip to wet it for him. Then without further ado, you wrap your lips around him.
“Shit. Oh bloody–Shit.” His whole body stiffens under the assault of your mouth, and you can feel him pulsing on your tongue.
Closing your eyes, you savour the sounds he makes for you. Keen little noises and punched out gasps like you’re holding him under water and drowning him in sensations until he can barely breathe.
His reactions, the way his cock twitches, the sweet tang of precome on your tongue; it’s all perfect, and your stomach clenches with arousal and the aching need to touch yourself.
It’s tempting, so tempting, to slip a hand under your skirt and indulge in your own pleasure, but you want to stay focused on Steven right now. Want to be able to take in every minute detail of his response to you. So you keep your hands wrapped firmly around the base of him as your mouth inches down, taking as much of him as you can before backing off again to tease him with just the tip of your tongue.
"Oh God, oh God, that feels amazing. You’re so–oh fuck–so good at this… I mean why wouldn’t you be? I mean… oh God.” He’s babbling. Fingers gripping the armrest so hard that his knuckles have gone ghost-white. “Pleasedon'tstop.”
It is, possibly, the world’s worst and most adorable attempt at dirty talking. But it hardly matters. Steven is so responsive to your every touch, so obviously overwhelmed, that it’s impossible to take his words the wrong way. Impossible not to be aroused by his enthusiastic reactions.
When you kiss the tip of him, he keens. When you swirl your tongue, tracing shapes against the sensitive head, he’ll cant his hips upwards, in an attempt to get even deeper. When you grant him exactly that, letting him slide him deeper into your mouth, his hands fly to your shoulder, fingers flexing there, digging in until they’re just short of painful.
And all the while he’s watching you with awe, gaze locked on you, as though he’s afraid to look away in case you disintegrate under his hands. As though he can hardly believe you’re real.
That look in his eyes makes you burn. Makes you want to do even more for him. To make him feel as good as humanly possible. So you suck and kiss and lick every inch of him you can, your hand wrapped in a tight fist around his slick girth to work what your mouth is unable to.
One large, shaking hand comes up to cup the side of your face, his thumb barely ghosting over the corner of your mouth where it’s stretched wide around his cock before moving to your cheek. He rubs small, soothing circles over your cheekbone, gentle even as he’s writhing under your mouth. The tender, doting touch sends pleasure skittering down your spine.
Even now, with you on your knees for him, the man is trying so hard to hold back. To be careful with you. His hips barely hitching up to meet your mouth, as you lick and lap at every inch you can.
“God, look at you. You’re so pretty. I can’t believe you’re actually–” He breaks off, gasping, then starts again, barely seeming aware of what he’s saying, “Your mouth feels so good. So fucking pretty, you are. Can you— Can you take me deeper?” Then when you hum an assent around his cock, “Oh God, oh please…”
The words coming out of him aren’t even particularly filthy, but they affect you all the same.
Heat blossoms in your stomach at how wrecked his voice is as he pants out how pretty you look over and over again. You can feel how wet you are—dripping into the already soaked cotton of your knickers. You squeeze your legs together, moaning around his cock when the pressure makes your cunt clench around nothing.
“Oh. You’re–? Fuck. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Steven gasps out, and you pull back far enough to look up at him and shoot him a cheeky wink.
“God, you’re amazing,” he groans, thrusting up into your mouth just once, like he can’t help himself, then stilling. Whatever shyness or uncertainty had him tongue tied just a few minutes ago seems to be gone, and he starts to beg for you to “Touch yourself for me, love. Please. Fuck. Want you to enjoy yourself too. Please.”
Hah. As though you weren’t already enjoying yourself thoroughly.
Still, it’s no great hardship to do as he asks, so you pull off slowly, teasingly, and sit back on your heels to look up at him. Collapsed back in the chair, chest heaving, cheeks flushed and curls in complete disarray as those dark eyes burn down into yours, he looks gorgeously undone.
God, and he says you’re the pretty one?
You can’t help but lose yourself in admiring him for a long moment.
Too long of a moment, apparently, because his brows draw together and the light of uncertainty starts to flood those big brown eyes. His hands rise to flutter in the air, a sure sign he’s feeling insecure.
Quickly, before he has a chance to overthink things too much, you make a show of sliding one hand down to cup your breast. Between your office clothes and sensible bra, you don’t get much out of it, but you’ve certainly captured Steven’s attention.
He looks utterly gobsmacked, mouth hanging open, and his eyes remain glued to your hand as it continues its descent down your body, and up under your skirt. His swollen, shiny cock jerking and leaking precome in an entirely gratifying manner.
You press a hand between your thighs over your clothes and gasp when even that muted pressure sends pleasure streaking through you. There’s an awkward moment as you scramble for the edge of your tights, and manage to drag them down far enough to wedge your hand under and into your knickers.
The angle is cramped and uncomfortable, but so, so worth it to be able to rub slippery little circles over your clit. Fuck, you’re already so wet, and you can’t help but moan as you feel wetness leaking down between your thighs every time your cunt clenches.
“Oh my days,” Steven breathes, eyes as wide as you’ve ever seen them as his gaze flits between your face and the hand buried beneath your skirt. He seems to have forgotten about his own arousal entirely, totally focused on you.
And, well, that just won’t do.
When he looks up at your face again, you catch his gaze and send him a naughty smile before ducking forward and taking his cock in your mouth again.
Steven lets out a gasping moan that sounds like it’s torn from his very soul, and this time his hips rise to meet you, no longer holding back. He’s all instincts and hunger now, and you’re reminded of the Steven who took control from you last night and drove you to three orgasms so intense that they left your legs numb in their wake.
His cock fills your mouth perfectly, and it’s almost too much. You struggle for a moment to fit all of him, but then the two of you find a rhythm between you that lets you take him deep without choking.
You rock your hips against your hand in time with his thrusts, and the muscles of your forearm ache as you chase your pleasure. It feels so good that you keep forgetting to time your breathing, butfuck, you barely care. Can’t help but love the burn of it down to your lungs. The taste of him, bittersweet and tangy on your tongue, is intoxicating and you could easily get addicted to this. To the uninhibited sounds he’s making at your touch and the taste and smell of him.
You’re overwhelmed, surrounded by him, head swimming with it. Or perhaps it’s the lack of air that has reality going a bit woozy around the edges as you match each roll of his hips into your waiting mouth with a roll of yours rocking against your hand. Your world narrows down to his cock in your mouth, his voice in your ears, and the devastating ebb of pleasure pours through you, building higher with each advance and retreat.
It’s too much and just the right amount because suddenly you’re there, right on the edge. Don’t realise that you’re moaning until the sound cuts off when you shove forward, desperate to take Steven as deep as possible. You roll your hips down one last time, pressing hard against your clit, and that’s all it takes.
You come hard, white hot bliss surging through you as you convulse on the floor of an empty conference room, Steven’s cock lodged as deep in your throat as you can take him.
Dimly you hear Steven’s shocked “Oh Lord, are you—? Oh my God!” and then a broken, breathy litany of “Oh God oh God oh God,” but it hardly registers.
You hold there as long as you can, until your lungs burn and the muscles of your arm threaten to cramp and you’ve wrung every last drop out of pleasure you can out of your orgasm.
Finally, shuddering with overstimulation, you have to pull back. Pulling your slick hand out of your underclothes, you flex your aching fingers, chest heaving as you suck in a long overdue breath and then another.
“Oh God, oh God, don’t stop.” The head of Steven’s slippery, wet cock glances off your equally slick lips as his hips rise to chase your mouth, “Pleasepleaseplease– I need– Fuck. Please don’t stop.”
His cock is twitching in your hand in protest from the sudden lack of attention. The length of it is dripping from your spit, precome flowing from the fat tip as if it’s drooling, glistening under the ceiling light.
You can’t help the shudder that works its way through you when your oversensitive cunt clenches at the depraved sight.
If your goal was to make a mess of him you’ve certainly succeeded.
To buy yourself time to catch your breath, you press saliva-slick kisses along his hardened length, relishing the way Steven descends completely into incoherence.
Half sentences and broken off words, begging for your mouth. It’s a far cry from the man who was all shy nerves, and worried about people being outside not so very long ago.
And you love it. You love it all.
The sounds he’s making are intoxicating. You want desperately to hear how loud he can get, but there’s a little voice in the back of your head warning that this is not the place to let the volume become an issue.
There shouldn’t be anyone down by this hallway, but the way that Steven is carrying on, you worry the sound will carry far enough that your co-workers on the floor above, still in their offices, will be able to hear you two.
“Steven,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to the fat tip of him, “I need you to keep quiet for me.”
You tilt your head until you can sneak a glance at him. How utterly ruined he looks, chest heaving, rising and falling in tides, eyes dazed, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can’t help but smile, fluttering your eyelashes for his attention as you lap up the precome oozing down his cock with little kitten licks, savouring the way he shivers violently below you.
You know you’re being mean. He’s so overwhelmed that he looks like he is going to jump out of his skin, but you can’t resist as you continue to tease him.
“You don’t want me to have to stop, now do you?”
He whines at that, and if you had the luxury of time and privacy, you’d scold him again, drag out your fun and tease him just a tiny bit more.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Steven begs so prettily, shuddering below you as he stutters out, “I—I’ll be good. Quiet, I promise. Please, please don’t stop.”
“Good,” you say, then you lean down again and take him back into your mouth.
His hand flies up to his mouth, and he clamps a wide palm over it in a desperate attempt to quiet himself. It helps some, but you can still hear the muffled groan that rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest.
Your previous established rhythm falls apart.
His hips stutter into a staccato pace as he thrusts into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get deeper. The telltale sign of his sharp jaw tensing, the small muscle there flexing. Those gorgeous doe eyes roll to the back of his head, his face awash in pleasure.
God, he’s fucking beautiful like this. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him.
From the way his thighs are trembling, you know he must be teetering on the edge even before he warns you with a hoarse and broken, “Close. I—I’m close.”
You hum, and the vibration makes him hiss like you’ve burnt him. His hands come to frame your face, attempting to gently pry you off of him.
You let him pull you away just long enough to form words, hands still wrapped around him to replace the momentum with firm strokes to keep him on the edge, as he twitches and jerks in your palm.
“Do you want to come in my mouth, Steven?”
He shivers, his eyes are shut tight, and for a moment you aren’t sure if he heard you at all. But then he nods forcefully, choking out a rough, “Fuck. You can’t just– God.Yeah.Yes. Fuck. Please,” that has the tip of your ears tingling.
God, he sounds ruined.
He also soundsloud, and he isn’t stopping.
“Steven.” Your voice is flat, cutting through his desperate rambling. “Shut it.”
A strangled moan tears out of him at your command, and somehow the suppressed noises he’s making are even louder than when he was babbling.
In a sudden fit of inspiration, you shove the fingers of your other hand, still sticky with your slick into his mouth. His tongue drags against you, and he gasps around the intruding digits. At the same time, you lean down to take him as deep as he goes, swallowing down the urge to gag when he hits the back of your throat.
His body goes rigid, throwing his head back and baring his long graceful throat to you with a muffled groan. He suckles at your fingers, mouth hot against your sticky skin, and you can feel it the moment that he comes. His cock pulsing warm and thick against your tongue, as he floods your mouth, tangy and slightly bitter.
It’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced, and it makes you want to drag out that pleasure for him and ruin him even more.
You hold him in your mouth, tongue lavishing at the stiff underside of his cock, your own fingers pressing against his tongue as he writhes underneath you. You don’t let up, drawing things out until his thighs are shaking violently beneath you and you’re sure that the overstimulation must be bordering on the painful.
Only then do you pull away, sitting back to take in the sight of Steven. Rosy-flushed cheeks, and half-lidded eyes boring into you. He’s staring down at you like you’ve hung the stars and moon in the night lit sky one by one.
All of a sudden, you find yourself feeling almost shy under that loving gaze. Flustered at the adoring attention from him. You feel silly to be the object of that devotion, while you’re still on your knees, knickers and chin equally sticky, and the remnants of his come still lingering on your tongue.
You don’t know what to say or do next, but it doesn’t matter.
Before you can even try to figure it out, Steven surges forward, dropping down to his knees in front of you and closing the distance between you to crash his lips against yours. He licks into your mouth with frantic desperation, apparently uncaring that you still taste of his come.
You can taste yourself in his mouth as well, as Steven devours your mouth with a hungry fervour that you’ve come to associate with his touch.
It’s sweet; it’s depraved; it’s ravenous.
It’s all the contradictions of Steven himself wrapped into a kiss. And for better or worse, it’s something you’re not sure you can live without anymore.
Eventually he slows in his pace, until the one kiss dissolves into many, syrupy and languid in a way that makes the air around you thin. And then…
“God, I love you.” He sighs the words gently into your mouth, so blissful and contented that it takes a moment for you to realise what was said.
You stiffen in his arms as his words fully register with you. Pulling away, you draw back enough to see Steven’s face, not entirely sure if you heard him right until you see the complete adoration in his eyes.
Oh. Oh wow, he really does mean that doesn’t he?
The expression on your face must betray how stunned you are by his confession, because Steven’s brows draw together in concern and he immediately starts apologising.
“Sorry. Should I… um. Should I not have said that? Not the most romantic moment, is it? Course it’s not. Confessing after you– you–” he stutters, clearly flustered. “Well, after that.” He flinches, face flushing bright red, and mutters, “God, I sound like a right bloody wanker, don’t I?”
He’s right.
This was hardly the perfect time, or a particularly romantic one. And he does sound like a bit of a wanker.
Your eyes meet, and he flinches, eyes worried and voice hesitant, as if he did something grievously wrong to offend you.
“Did I make you uncomfortable? I did, didn’t I?” He drops his gaze, as though he thinks he’s committed some grievous wrong to offend you. “I’m sorry, we can pretend I never said it if that’s what you want.” It clearly pains him to make the suggestion, but he makes it anyway. “I don’t– I don’t want to lose you.”
That’s the thing with Steven.
He’s all in.
Whatever else he has going on, Steven’s never been half-hearted about this, about you.
He doesn’t time his moments or play tactics to win you over. Whether it’s bravery or stupidity, you can’t tell, but he’s always been open and vulnerable with his feelings, even that very first night at the restaurant, when his eyes lit up at the sight of you. They’ve always been right there on his sleeve.
And right now it’s clear to see that he’s en route to having a complete nervous breakdown if you leave him hanging any longer without an answer.
You’ve known for a while that you likedSteven, had feelings for him, and now there’s not a single doubt in your mind about how deep those feelings go.
“I love you too.”
He looks up at you timidly from underneath those thick eyelashes with shock that’s shading into careful, dawning hope. His mouth opens as if to speak, but then he hesitates for a long moment, jaw working, like he’s too scared to ask you to repeat it in case he misheard or you’re playing a practical joke on him.
“Yeah?” he asks eventually, voice whisper-soft.
You don’t answer him with words.
Instead you nod, pulling him close until you can kiss him again. Removing any lingering doubt that still might remain—for both of you. Whatever yesterday night was, you meant every one of those three little words, and want to stay to figure it out.
It’s you and Steven, red flags be damned.
Dedication and Credits
To the city of London itself, can you dedicate a city? No? I’m doing it anyway. I’m finally home after 2.5 years of being away and I miss her so. Love of my fucking life.
@thirstworldproblemss my love, my best friend, my soul twin, clown sister. Thank you for being with me literally every single day the past year and almost a half in my pocket, on good days, on bad days, and on the boring-nothing-special days. You’ve kept me going all this time, and the best part of my gloomy days would be waiting for you to wake up half across the world and start our nonsense for the day. My life is all the better because you’re in it. Thank you for keeping me intact and in one piece all this time.
@frannyzooey the kindest, most talented, and most supportive person. You are so loved and truly one of a kind. You give so much of yourself wanting nothing in return and your presence is my life is such a gift. Thank you for always being there with a kind word when I was about to blow my freaking casket in the last year and a half. For talking me down, for being a pillar of calm and reason when I felt like dousing things down with gasoline and setting it on fire. Thank you for being you, I cannot wait to spam you with a million food photos from this day on, that’s my promise to you.
@jazzelsaur for your beautiful, curly avocado toast hair that smells like delicious onions. I love you, your baby whore
@radiowallet with your brilliant big mind. For you love of the comic and nerdy. For being so absolutely fucking wonderful and supportive and kind in a word that is anything but on some days.
@the-ginger-hedge-witch this is not a dedication. This is a call out, remember when you tried to character assassinate Brendan Fraser? Pepperidge Farm remembers. P.S. I love you dearly
