Steven had never felt himself be this tired before, even though he spent endless night being awake, he knew the moment he stepped into his apartment that all he wanted to do was sleep, however, that stopped when he checked the time and suddenly remembered your date.
With a sudden burst of excitement, Steven began to get ready, taking out the clothes he picked for the date days prior, combing his hair and making sure his curls are tamed, almost bathing himself in cologne even though he had a shower and did a whole get ready routine.
As he combed his hair, he noticed his reflection not looking as excited as he was. Dismissing it as being too tired, he ignored it and was on his merry way.
He showed up to the steak place waiting for your arrival. He waited and waited and waited.
Hours had passed and he was still sat there watching the entrance of the place eager for you to come.
“We’re going to be closing soon sir, are you still waiting for someone?” The waiter asked Steven sympathetically.
“Uh, no. I-I don’t think so.” He looked at the table for a moment, thinking about what to do, “I’ll actually have one of those steaks.” He stated slightly slumping in his seat.
The waiter gave him a sad smile and took the menu away to get his order.
Unbeknownst to Steven his reflection in the glass of water was watching him, feeling every bit of emotion he was.
He took his phone out and decided to call you to make sure nothing happened to you to cause you to miss the date.
“Hi y/n, how are you-“
“You have the audacity to call me days after standing me up?” You said bitterly.
“I- sorry what do you mean?” Steven was more than confused at your words.
“If you didn’t want to go on the date you shouldn’t have to ask me out in the first place.” You said softly, feeling hurt at the fact that he was the one to ask you out and then stand you up.
“What’re you talking about? I’m here at the steak place waiting for you.” He said looking at his watch.
“We were supposed to meet there two days ago Steven, on Friday. Please don’t take me for a fool. I thought you were a genuine man, clearly, you’re not.” You felt yourself getting angry and cut the call before you said something you would regret.
Steven stared at his phone in disbelieve.
What were you on about? Two days ago?
That’s when he saw the date and day on his phone. Not believing what he was seeing, he looked to the waiter who came to deliver his steak to him.
“Mate, what’s the day today?” Steven asked almost frantically.
“Todays Sunday, sir.” The waiter stated walking away.
His eyes widened, there’s no way he lost two day of his life and had no knowledge about it.
The next day he was hoping to see you on his way to work. You worked in the bakery not too far from him and would often run into him on your way to work or home.
He searched the crowd near the bakery and caught sight of you in the window. Your usual smile seemed to be sheltered and you didn’t have that spark in your eye.
Steven felt himself feeling responsible for your condition, and so he went to work with a mission in his head for after work.
“I’m going to make it up to her, I have to make it up to her.” Steven said moving around his apartment, making sure that he has everything he needs.
With flowers in his hand and the heart shaped box of chocolates, he makes his way out of the apartment and outside.
He got off work early, with an earful from his boss, just so that he could plan things accordingly and be sure to catch you before you left to go home.
“Y/n, hey-…. Please wait up. Just hear me out.” He plead as you began to walk in the opposite direction at the sight of him.
You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him.
“Steven look, I get it. You didn’t want to go on the date. I-I’m over it. We can just move on from this and go back to not knowing the other existed-“
Your words drowned out in his mind as he felt panicked in that moment, he didn’t want to forget you. You were the first person to approach him and become his friend. The others weren’t as friendly to him as you were.
“Kiss her.”
A voice echoed in his mind.
“What?”
“Kiss her dammit, before she leaves.”
Steven realised you were once again going to turn around and walk away.
He stepped forward, grasped your hand and squeezed his eyes shut as his lips met yours. His hands moved to your jaw, holding you there gently as he kissed you, and as you kissed him back.
After a short moment, you pulled back to look at him.
“I don’t know why I did that. Oh no, you’re going to hate me even more now.” He began to ramble.
“Hey look at me…” You grasped his head between your hands making him look at you, “I don’t hate you.” You clarify to him.
“I’m just hurt.”
“Y/n, these passed few days. I have no idea what has been happening. Yesterday I came home thinking it was Friday and immediately started getting ready for our date and only after hours of being at the restaurant did I realise that it was Sunday and not Friday. I’m so sorry, I got you flowers and chocolate. I really like you y/n.” He said looking stressed as ever.
“You sound absolutely insane… but I believe you. I’ve no idea what’s got you feeling like this but we’re going to figure it out, okay? You look exhausted, how about we start by getting you home and ready for bed. Have you had anything to eat?” You ask taking your hand in his and holding the flowers in the other.
“I haven’t had dinner yet; I’d like it if you had dinner with me. Like a redo of yesterday- I mean Friday.” He said with a nervous chuckle.
“We can have that date once you’re well rested and taken care of.” You smile at him as the two of you walk in the direction of his apartment.
Ever since you met Marc, your life turned upside down but all in the best ways. Sometimes, quite literally too like how you were on his bed with your head dangling off from the edge while his cock slid in and out of your mouth.
With your legs spread open, you could feel the wetness that continued to gush out of your aching cunt. Each heavy drag of Marc’s cock against your tongue and throat made you embarrassingly soaked, especially with the noises that he would make.
“Stick your tongue out, baby…” Marc said breathily after pulling his cock out from your mouth.
pairing: steven grant x fem!reader (mentions of marc)
genre: pwp, smut
word count: 1.6k
warnings: glove kink, exhibitionism (they do it on the roof but no one sees), vaginal s.ex, dirty talking, rough s.ex, reader is aware of alters and moon knight, creampie, dom!steven, sub!reader
The way the cold wind brushes the loose strands out of your face, the way it rouses goosebumps across your skin. You love the lights, they remind you of the stars but instead of the sky they decorate the very earth you walk on. You look down on the city from the rooftop, everything seems so tiny.
cw/tw: mentions of erection, explicit (18+), female reader
summary: some turn ons for some marvel men
ft. Steven Grant, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Bucky Barnes, (request more if you would like other characters)
Steven Grant:
Wearing your hair up.
There’s something about the way your nape and collarbones are completely exposed that ignites a burn of desire deep in his stomach.
The need to press his lips and run his tongue along the bare skin chews away at his sanity. The moment you walk out of the bathroom, a cute sun dress and hair up into a French bun, clipped back with the pastel butterfly clip he got for you last week, he’s stunned.
“Babe!” You squeal the moment you feel his lips against your neck, sucking gently on the skin as his hands anchor at your hips. “You’re going to leave a mark.”
“You’re so lovely.” Steven presses a few kisses against the harsh, throbbing mark, “My pretty girl. I can’t help it.”
And as he presses his hips against your own to feel just how pretty he really thinks you are, you soon realize you’re going to miss your reservations.
Matt Murdock
After the shower
Honestly, he really doesn’t know what it is about it. With his heightened senses he could practically hear the water droplets grazing across your skin, gathering in the crevices of your collar bones and dripping to the floor.
Not to mention the smell, behind the lavender and flowers is the natural scent of you. It could be the comfort it brings or the familiarity but he’s hard before you can even step out of the shower. He waits at the edge of the bed, facing the door as it opens.
“Hi babe,” he’s still dressed in his suit, tie pulled from his collar before answering, “Hi baby.”
But before you can move another muscle, his hand finds your towel and pulls it from your body before pulling you into the bed.
Frank Castle
Wearing his clothes
Seeing you in his clothes does something to Frank. Maybe it’s because is scent is all over them or the fact that you without a doubt are completely his.
No matter the case, he always leaves a shirt or pair of pajama pants out with the hope you’ll see it and decide to throw them on.
Frank had been away for a mission for a few days. It’s normal for him to cut communication for the sake of not only the mission but the safety as you. Typically he calls you before coming home but didn’t bother.
Imagine his surprise when he walks into your shared home when you’re stirring a pot of noodles in nothing but his shirt. He leans against the door frame, admiring as the hem of the shirt rises and rises as you bend down to open the oven and peak inside.
His throat dries instantly at the realization that you’re not wearing panties. Just like that you’re wrapped in strong arms, kisses pressing against your nape as you feel the line of his erection against your lower back.
Bucky Barnes
Your lips
Bucky loves your lips. The softness and feeling he gets every time he touches them or kisses them he is filled with more love than he ever thought was possible.
But now, watching as you smile and giggle at the ladies that surround you, he wants nothing more than to take you home and smear the plum colored lipstick you just bought.
He leans against the bar, ignoring the bartender who asks if he wants a drink. All he can do is stare at you. While it did take some convincing to get him to this party, the moment he saw you and that damn lipstick he suddenly didn’t want to do anymore.
He lets out a troubled breath as you make eye contact with him from across the room, sucking in your bottom lip and winking - you were doing this on purpose.
summary: Moments in which he calls you his sweet girl.
Ft. Steven Grant, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle
and currently taking requests for preference topics such as this one, please include characters you would like :)
Steven Grant (mentions of Marc)
Steve can’t help the way his heart pounds inside his chest. Along with the warmness that fills his cheek, makes his hand clamy.
So beautiful and unbelievably soft. Watching the way your chest falls into a shallow pattern of breathing. Mouth slightly ajar as you cuddle the pillow closer in your sleep.
After canceling your date due to business involving Marc, the last thing he expected was to find you in his apartment, asleep on his couch.
A slight frown fills his feature rather quickly when noticing your hair done up and more makeup than usually. A darker color lipstick slightly snugging at the corner of your lips.
With a guilty heart he sighs, all of this just for him to cancel? He licks his thumb before reaching forward to wipe the corner of your lips. The weight of his finger makes your eyes flutter, a lazy smile matches yours.
“Hi, you look beautiful.” Guilty eyes moving closer and closer until the warmth of his lips press into your cheek, “I’m sorry I canceled, you put so much effort in.”
“’S okay,” it’s cute the way your word’s slur, “Just wanted to see you.”
Steven smiles for what seems like the nth time this day, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you into his chest. Nuzzling his nose against the smooth strands of hair, mumbling the words, “My sweet girl.”
Matt Murdock
Matt lets out a deep sigh, pulling his tie away from his collar but not before a certain scent catches his nose. He can’t help but tilt his head and breath deeply.
Almost instantly there is a rare smile filling his features. He texted you hours ago, it was nothing more than a 'having a horrible day, thinking of you.’
What he didn’t expect was you cooking his favorite meal of his day to cook. Ever since retiring and swearing the whole daredevil off, he began to find new ways to fill his time such as cooking.
And absolutely is terrible at, despite the lessons and following recipes but you always end up kissing his cheek and thanking him despite the fact it was burnt to bits and not edible.
“Tell me you did not spend all day cooking this for me.” Matt leans against the kitchen counter with a look of annoyance but he was anything but.
“It’s just lasagna, anyways, you said you had a bad day, I wanted to make it better.” Not bothering to look back as you continue to mix the salad but before you could even mutter another word, two large arms wrap around your waist. Matt hunches over but just enough to rest his head against the back of your neck and press a soft kiss there.
“I love you so much - you’re so -,” he pauses for a second before continuing, “My sweet, sweet girl.”
Frank Castle
The moment Frank turned the corner of the busy street and didn’t see you walking in front of him anymore, he of course, assumed the worst.
Heart beating a mile a minute as he surveys the area, looking for one glimpse of that red, winter coat to soothe his panic.
“Did you see a woman in a red coat?” He panics, asking every person who passes him but the majority deny or ignore him.
“Damn it,” he whispers under his breath, how could he even let you out of his sight? He knows how many enemies he has, how many people would crush you in order to get to the ex-punisher.
In a quick 360 around the block, there is a quick swish of red. Between his heavy breaths and the brutal New York winter he can barely make it out but catches sight of you rather quickly. Down a sketchy alley that smells of trash, footprint in the snow lead him to you.
Crouch to the side of the dumpster, talking softly but Frank doesn’t even give himself a second to think before grasping your shoulder. “Why did you run away like that?” He’s angry, voice raising with every word. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“Frank, I’m sorry, I’m okay.” Heart filling with guilt as you find the bewildered expression across his face, he was scared. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I was thinking straight, I saw this dog and it’s snowing and so cold and - puppies.”
He takes the time to finally realize what you’re petting; a blue nosed pit with a wagging tail, the mama dog having four little puppies suckling from her stomach. He watches as you frown, “I’m worried, the storm is only going to get worse.”
Frank can’t help but crack a smile at his pretty girl, “I’m sorry for yelling,” He reaches forward to press his fingers against your cheek, “My sweet girl, you have a beautiful heart.”
Frank turns his attention back to the mama dog, petting her head softly, “Hi girl, you’re a good girl huh?” He starts to pick the puppies up, handing them over to you one at a time before affectionately tapping the dogs behind, “C'mon mama, my girl is too sweet to leave you out here - thata girl.” He looks up at you with soft eyes, “Let’s go home, we have some babies to warm.”
Arguments in which you sleep on the couch with marvel men
summary: what happens we you sleep on the sofa after an argument
characters: Steven Grant, Matt Murdock, Bucky Barnes (will do another set if requested)
Steven Grant
Arguments are a rare occurrence.. so when they do happen Steven is just as confused as he is upset. How did it get to this point?
One minute he’s leaving for work and then the next you’re yelling, frustration as clear as day as well as the crystal tears which freely flow down your cheeks.
The apartment isn’t big at all, the lack of walls makes it hard to escape his presence. The fact that you gathered some blankets and pillows while laying on the sofa makes Steven’s brows knit.
Before you know it Steven is on his knees, using the edge of the sofa’s cushions as he speaks softly, “Darling, why are you here?”
Honestly, you don’t know, today has been a hard day. Everything that could go wrong, absolutely has and poor Steven, the man that caters to your every request has gotten the blunt of it. It just happened, he didn’t mean to leave his clothes scattered across the bedroom floor, he woke up late this morning. He didn’t mean to leave the kitchen in shambles either.
It’s like he knows you; and your racing mind. A hand gently strokes the hair from your forehead and leans forward to press a kiss against your nose. “It’s okay, everything is fine.”
“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve to be treated like this..” the words are followed by tears which are only crushed under the soft pad of his thumb.
“Come back to bed, honey. It’s so cold without you.”
Matt Murdock
Matt is stubborn, always has been and always will be but it gets to the point where it’s absolutely maddening. He will not be the first to apologize despite the last hour of screaming back and forth at each other.
He’s the type to ignore it until it finally works itself out but will secretly sulk at the fact you’re no longer speaking to him or in this case, sleeping with him either.
He almost has to stop himself from commenting on how childish you looked, stomping into the room and grabbing your pillow before slamming the door close. In the morning you’re still fast asleep, clinging to the pillow.
With a coffee mug in the other hand, he uses the left to pull the blanket up and over your shoulders. Winters in New York City aren’t kind to apartments like his, he turns up the heat before setting off for another day of work.
On the third day he decides enough is enough, it’s about 9pm when his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you into the air before wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. With a strong arm secure around your waist, he reaches for the pillow and ignores your protest.
“I don’t want to sleep with you, Mathew.”
He presses a kiss against your temple, “I don’t care what you want, it’s cold.”
Bucky Barnes
Bucky is the type to be completely confused. He can’t tell that you’re angry at him - it’s hard to miss with the silence and small jabs. But when you don’t come to bed, poor baby is so confused.
He’ll quietly creep behind the couch, biting his bottom lip as he watches you snuggle closer with the blanket as the TV blares some show you’re watching.
“You’re not coming to bed?”
“No.” Short and simple.
Bucky clears his throat and before you know it he’s jumping onto the sofa, tucking himself between your body and the cushions. Metal arm wrapped around your waist as he pulls you closer, sighing into your hair.
“What are you doing?”
“Sleeping with you. Hard when you’re not in bed.”
Maybe you were being a little hard headed, it’s not like Bucky meant to shrink your favorite shirt in the washer, he was only trying to take some responsibilities off of you.
Without a word you turn to face him, only to find puppy dog eyes, “I didn’t mean to shrink your shirt, honey.”
A Marc Spector/female reader fic! Hint of Steven Grant/Reader and Jake Lockley/reader; apologies if I get anything wrong about DID, but I’m basing this purely on the world Marvel built here. Quick summary: the reader notices something about Marc that he’s quick to deny.
Dating a superhero was one thing. You never thought it’d happen to you. But it did. Sure there was the expected difficulties. The late nights. The bruises and cuts and sometimes broken bones weren’t fun. Even if the suit did heal them by morning. You’d even been kidnapped a few times to use as bait.
But dating a superhero that happened to have Dissociative Identity Disorder? That sweet, shy Steven Grant shared a body with ex mercenary Marc Specter? That there was an even a third alter named Jake Lockley? That they each had their own quirks, habits, hang ups and preferences? That had taken some getting used to.
But it was so worth it. You quickly found yourself falling for all three. Steven was easy to love. He was open and honest and a hopeless romantic. Jake surprised you. Sure he was a bit more hedonistic than his alters, but he was also very thoughtful. You’d come home finding the dishes done, the laundry in the wash and that leak in your kitchen sink fixed. Apparently Jake was used to doing the “boring stuff grown ups do” since Steven got easily distracted and Marc got too focused on ‘the mission’.
“I’m always cleaning up their messes Babe.” Jake had winked. Before giving your butt a firm smack.
Marc on the other hand was a different story.
It had taken him longer to return your affections. Though Steven swore Marc had been smitten with you from the start. But he was slow to trust. Especially after they opened up to you about their past. And why Steven and Jake came to be in the first place.
So you took it slow with Marc. You started by learning his favorite foods and trying to make them. One fire later and Jake telling you to stick with take out as he pulled out the fire extinguisher stopped that. Poor Steven tried to assure you by trying to eat some of the babka. He chipped a tooth.
It was your touch that made Marc come around. Holding his hand at first. Then once while you were hugging Steven, they switched so Marc was fronting. You could tell by the way Marc stiffened a little. Jake would always try to cop a feel.
You had stood there a moment, just staying still, when he seemed to melt in your embrace. After that you found that he was even more cuddly than Steven was. He practically purred when you would run your fingers through his inky black curls. And after the first time you made love while he fronted, you were walking funny for a week.
So now that you were completely in love with the three of them (and still trying to figure out how you were going to explain this relationship to your mother) you began to notice something about Marc since he had finally let his guard down around you.
Steven was the bookworm and had little interest in watching movies and tv shows with you. (Though you had made him a fan of Abbott and Costello meet the Mummy.) Jake was the sports nut but Marc? You often found yourself wrapped in his arms watching cheesy old B movies and tv shows. You introduced him to Doctor Who and delighted at the childlike smile on his face as he watched the Doctor outwit his enemies.
That’s when you noticed some Captain America comics mixed in with Steven’s books. And when you went shopping, sometimes you found Marc looking through the toy aisle, gazing wistfully at the Avengers action figures and the Funko pops.
And your suspicions were confirmed when he showed you the Tomb-buster movies. How he went into near obsessive detail about the lore. It definitely reminded you of Steven’s many lectures about ancient Egypt.
Not wanting to embarrass him, you asked Jake about it. After making sure Marc wasn’t listening.
“Oh yeah Babe. Marc tries to act like me, but let’s face it. Steven ain’t the only nerd in the system.”
Then one day, you noticed something else. Steven and you had been sitting quietly and reading, when suddenly Marc switched to the front. And he instantly took off Steven’s glasses.
But seeing him turn back to the chapter he had been reading, squinting at the print, you asked him,
“Why don’t you wear the glasses?”
“They’re Steven’s.”
“But it’s the same body. And Steven needs reading glasses.”
“Glasses just aren’t for me.” Marc shook his head.
“Afraid I’ll figure out your secret?” You began to tease him.
He furrowed his brow, confused,
“What are you talking about?”
“About how you’re secretly a nerd.”
“Steven’s the nerd. Not me.”
“But Steven is a part of you. And you literally based him on the character of a Indiana Jones knock off.” You countered.
“Hey Dr. Grant is nothing like Indiana Jones okay? He doesn’t seek fortune and glory but lives for the thrill of discovery.” Marc argued. Then he stopped seeing your smirk. Dammit. He had proven your point.
A calming touch of your hand relaxed him,
“Seeing you enjoy something only makes me love you more you know? Besides…”.
You stood and climbed in his lap, putting the glasses on his face.
“Secret nerds are hot..” you purred before pulling him into a searing kiss. Priding yourself on steaming up his glasses.
And months later on their birthday when you got Marc a Dr. Steven Grant Funko pop? He definitely showed you how hot his nerdy side was.
Summary: With the death of your good friend and sugar daddy, you were left as the sole benefactor to his entire estate and given sole ownership to his company, which in turn, brought your whole world upside down and eventually had you pay it forward. Who would have ever thought it would be in the form of the ball of Sunshine named Steven Grant, and the secret he wasn’t so keen on letting anyone know about.
Characters: Steven Grant x F!Reader. Marc Spector x F!Reader. Jake Lockley x F!Reader. Tony Stark. Peter Parker. May Parker. Happy Hogan. Matt Murdock. Pepper Potts.
Series Warnings: Modern AU (No powers). Sugar Daddy/Mommy-Baby Relationship(s). Dissociative Identity Disorder. Mention of Trauma and other Unspecified Mental Disorder. Smut. Canon Typical Violence. Mention of Medical Assisted Suicide. Mention of Terminal Illness.
i said i was going to write my own asexual reader fic if no one did so i did just that.
feel free to request more fics, but just know that i won’t write any smut
also english is not my first language, and i write my fics all in lower case and then try to add proper capitalization after but usually fail so. um. look out for those
likes and reblogs appreciated!!!
prompt : steven asks you out on a date. you blurt out that you’re asexual. he’s totally chill with it. plus a fluffy ending bc im a sucker for cheesy romance.
word count : 1,241
warnings : slight ooc maybe? this is literally just self indulgent fluff
You and Steven were coworkers, both working together in the little gift shop in the British Museum.
You and him bonded over complaining about Donna’s behavior and the giftshop’s inaccuracies in merch, always laughing and snickering behind Donna’s back whenever she was out of hearing range.
You grew to enjoy his company and also started to develop an embarrassing crush on him. and unbeknownst to you, Steven had felt the same.
It has been a while since you saw Steven and Marc, knowing they had unfinished business with Harrow. But the longer they’ve been gone, the more you worry they won’t return. (1.4k)
some mentions of violence, kinda fluff, kinda angst idk
Sitting in the flat, your eyes wandered from the pages in front of you to the lonely goldfish swimming around in his tank. “I know, Gus.” You sigh, closing the book and leaving it on the small coffee table, piling it on top of the various books you’ve been reading in a feeble attempt to keep your mind occupied.
It has been a week since you last saw Steven, and well Marc in turn.
Marc barely told you anything, knowing you’d only worry and rightfully so. He kept Steven at bay, despite his protests when wanting to at least say goodbye, knowing more about what this would entail and that they might not return.
“Come on, Marc. Let me say goodbye to her, at least.” Steven pleads, brows deeply furrowed at the sight of your confused expression.
“So you’re going somewhere, and won’t even let me know where or when you’ll be back?” You question, crossing your arms in annoyance and rightfully so.
You’d known about Marc as long as Steven had, and though it hasn’t been an easy transition in your relationship, you were learning to embrace it as Steven was. Yet, despite this, Marc was still secretive about certain aspects, including his missions with Khonshu.
Marc huffs loudly, turning his back on you and facing Steven in his reflection. “It’s for your own good.” He states to both of you. “I’ll be back soon, just keep Gus alive.”
Without another word or chance for you to see Steven, Marc picks up his bags and places the spare key in your palm. He closes your fingers over it and squeezes lightly before walking out, leaving you alone with a whirlwind of thoughts.
Since that day, you stayed at their flat. Initially, you told yourself it was for Gus’ sake, he was always used to the company and didn’t want him to go without. However, as days turned to nights you realised you just wanted to see them come home safe and more importantly, alive.
Flicking through channels on the small TV, you could barely focus as the moonlight blared through the old windows. “Fuck you, Khonshu.” You mutter, curling up into the arm of the sofa, closing your eyes and imagine it was Steven holding you in his warm embrace, or even Marc on a softer occasion.
A loud scream causes you to stir from your attempt at sleep. You reach for the nearest object, which happens to be a hardback book and hold it up to your chest for defence. “Okay,” Muttering to yourself you try to control how fast your heart is beating from the abrupt awakening.
Another noise sounds, yet it isn’t a scream from the streets below. Instead, it is coming from outside of the flat.
“Shit.” Lowering the book momentarily, you scan the sofa for your phone, hoping that Marc and Steven, wherever they are still have their phones at least.
With shaky hands, you try to type out a message, unsure of what good it’ll do. ’someone’s here.’ Is all you manage to type before sending the message when footsteps approach the front door, that awful creaking floorboard that sits outside of the flat causes your ears to perk in fear.
The doorknob continues to rattle, causing your fear to spike as you desperately search for a potential weapon. “Fuck.” You whisper, tears now forming in your eyes whilst you scramble around toward the kitchen for a knife.
Quickly grabbing one, you freeze at the sound of the lock clicking.
A tear falls from one of your eyes as those hinges creak for a second before slamming open against the doorframe. A series of books fall to the ground, muffling your gasp as you cover your mouth, trying to hide in the corner of the kitchen.
Entering the flat, three men with hoods stand in the doorway. Each of them eyeing the contents, you hear them muttering to one another.
“Search everything.” One speaks up, the other two nodding in agreement as they step further into the flat and begin to pull books from the shelves, bedding from the mattress and inching toward your hiding spot.
With your eyes remaining tightly shut, each ruckus causes you to flinch. ‘Please ignore me.’ Mentally you repeat the sentence, hoping you’re the least of their priorities as they ransack the place.
Then it goes quiet.
Too quiet.
“What do we 'ave here?” One of them pipes up, the other two standing beside with sinister smirks as they spot you quivering, eyes still closed, wishing for it to all be a nightmare.
Stepping toward you, the leader of the trio kneels in front of you. His fingers glide across your cheek, hearing you whimper in fear as you apprehensively open your eyes.
“Hi, beautiful.” He chuckles, quickly noticing the knife in your grip, almost useless. “Now, we don’t wanna cause any harm here, do we boys?” Looking over his shoulder, the others shake their heads teasingly. “We are looking for Marc Spector,” The man leans closer, brushing your hair from your ears and whispers. “know where he is, sweetheart?”
You can’t help but shudder as his breath fans your neck, hating how defenceless you feel. “No.” You answer.
The man rises to his feet with a sharp breath. “Sadly sweetheart, that isn’t the correct answer.”
Before you can even glance upwards, a foot plummets into your ribs, causing you to keel over into a fetal position. “You fucker!” You cry out, the knife you once held discarded beside you.
“Now, wanna try that again?” Another steps forward, cracking his fists in eagerness.
“I don’t know where he is.” Again, answering truthfully.
Bringing your knees closer to your chest, you force yourself upright, leaning against the kitchen cabinets. “He wouldn’t tell me shit, so good luck with whatever you’re trying here.” You laugh weakly, the pain from your ribs increasing by the second.
The leader merely hums. “You’re his womanthough.”
“His woman?” You remark, scoffing. “What decade are you in dude?”
That comment lands you a punch in the face, a searing pain you struggle to comprehend. Silence ensues from you whilst they converse, unaware of your eyes drooping or the sound of the floorboards outside creaking.
*
“Come on, come on, Y/n.” A hand gentle taps your cheek, a voice you know and seek comfort in. “I know you’re in there, come on, please.” He mutters, bringing you into his lap.
Uneasily, you begin to open your eyes. “Marc?” You mumble, groggy from the dull pain in your face and ribs as you shift, only to be shushed in response.
“I wouldn’t move, love.” Steven comments, his soft smile easing your discomfort. “And I wouldn’t look around either, someone got carried away.”
“I didn’t get carried away.” Marc rolls his eyes. “Someone else did.”
Furrowing your brows in confusion, Marc helps bring you closer into his chest, keeping your back turned to the three lifeless bodies strawn the flat. “I’ll explain everything, I promise.” Marc tells you softly, his hand still palmed on your cheek, feeling your tears coated with dried blood.
“We’re really sorry, Y/n.” Steven tells you, tears brimming in his eyes at the sight of you all bloodied up. “Marc knows now, he, he should’ve explained everything.” He stumbles over his words, feeling the lump in his throat rising further up.
Lifting your hand up weakly, you rest it on his cheek with a gentle smile. “I know,” You mutter. “he’s got a lot of explaining to do.” A weak laugh passes through your lips, easing Steven’s pained expression. “Thank you though.”
“You’re our girl, doll.” Marc regards with a light shrug, his hand now resting on your waist lightly, not wanting to risk hurting you. “It’s what we do for the girl we love.” He admits, unable to stop the words from falling.
Feeling Marc tense up, you lean back in his embrace. “You falling for me, Spector?” You tease knowingly, and before he can respond, you lean closer to his lips. “'Cause I might be falling for you too.”
Internally, Steven is clapping his hands in excitement whilst Marc mentally freezes, leaving Jake to front momentarily.
“He’s happy to know, mi amor.” Jake chuckles, watching you tilt back in pure bewilderment. “Allow me to introduce myself, the creator of that mess, Jake Lockley, Princessa.”
Remember that line Layla says in episode 2 after Steven says that the place is his mum’s flat?
“Okay, so you guys are talking again?”
Also considering the fact that Steven came about when Marc was younger too… Marc really held all that trauma and pain in for so many years and he never opened up to anyone else before Steven. Not even Layla.
Hearing that reassurance from Steven must’ve meant the world to him, especially since he was barely able to hear it from anyone else ALSO!! Having someone protect him for once and not the other way around!!!
I literally just calmed down after HOURS, but now I’m crying again
Back in my thoughts again, you know the drill. A bit lengthy!!
I cannot stop thinking about this scene—how Steven clearly remembers that this was his room,
And how he remembers the exact thing he said during this part of the scene, which proves that he was, in fact, in control for at least a couple seconds.
BUT. He doesn’t remember anything from this moment forward. That’s why he wanted to see what their mother did to them, and that’s why Marc was set on getting him out of the room before he saw something that would severely taint his memories and what he knew of their childhood. At the same time, Marc knows EXACTLY what happened.
I’m positive that Steven dissociated at that moment and Marc took over. In general, he didn’t want Steven to remember what truly happened. It’s his way of making up to Randall/RoRo, I would like to believe. He treats Steven like the younger brother that he lost when he was a child. The one who loved drawing the one finned fish. The one who was always eager for adventure. The one who was screaming for help back in the cave.
Remember? His mother explicitly stated:
“Marc, what do you do? Keep an eye on your brother, okay?” AndMarc is set on fulfilling that promise to Steven.
Marc let Steven keep all the good memories, while he himself lived through all of the bad ones, just so that he could protect him from getting hurt and feeling pain. Steven, his alter, who he considers to be his little brother.
That’s the reason why Marc was so adamant about simply telling Steven what had happened in that room at the top of the flight of stairs, so Steven wouldn’t have to watch the memory play out in front of him. Seeing what happened would definitely hurt more than just knowing what happened. By telling Steven himself, he would have control over what he would reveal to him, and how he would tell him.
That’s why Marc’s first thought when waking up in the Asylum was Steven. That’s why Marc never complained about fronting right after Steven was pierced by the weapons back in Mogart’s. That’s why Marc probably set up a line for Steven to contact “his mother”, and why Marc replaced Gus with another fish. That’s why Marc didn’t want Steven finding out about him in the first place.
Marc spent most of his life protecting and saving Steven the way he wished he could’ve protected and saved Randall. I am literally bawling over this.
Also ending this with another appreciation for Oscar Isaac because he’s a damn legend for the breathtaking portrayal of Steven AND Marc. He better earn awards for this series or I will riot.
This whole scene means so much. Steven let Marc take the body during times when he thought he couldn’t defend himself (and Marc in the process), like in episode 3 at Mogart’s? The “Take the body, Marc!” Scene?
Steven finally realizing that he is capable of doing everything Marc does?
“It means I’ve got this too.”
Him coming to terms with it and coming to Marc’s aid to help him out? Marc being proud of him?
Him tackling one of the souls of the Duat and saving Marc?
I will never stop crying over this episode. I will never get over the heartbreak it brought and continues to bring
This whole scene means so much. Steven let Marc take the body during times when he thought he couldn’t defend himself (and Marc in the process), like in episode 3 at Mogart’s? The “Take the body, Marc!” Scene?
Steven finally realizing that he is capable of doing everything Marc does?
“It means I’ve got this too.”
Him coming to terms with it and coming to Marc’s aid to help him out? Marc being proud of him?
Him tackling one of the souls of the Duat and saving Marc?
I will never stop crying over this episode. I will never get over the heartbreak it brought and continues to bring
Can we talk about the way Steven ONCE AGAIN came running to help another living being??
The first time was when he heard the jackal crying out in the museum, thinking it was a dog. He came back in an attempt to help him out because he thought it blindly wandered into the museum?
Then in episode 5, he came running towards the direction of the little boy who was screaming like and in the memory, he tried helping both RoRo and Marc like fhsjkdfjskdfnjds I WILL START CRYING AGAIN RN
Episode 4 spoilers warning!!! Play at your own risk
Back at it again! I wanna just …. Talk. About this scene.
LIKE???? HELLO??? They’re both being played by the same actor and Oscar does such a fucking good job portraying Steven and Marc because you can tell who’s who by just LOOKING AT THEM??
And here??? The stark difference between Steven’s open, flailing hands and Marc’s balled up fist and somewhat defensive stance??? How Steven backs away and Marc stays in place while looking at Taweret?
And the little details like Steven grabbing the towels and messing them up because he doesn’t know how else to react and what to do??
THE DIFFERENCE IN THE PITCHES OF THEIR SCREAMS????
IM LOSING IT. OSCAR ISAAC NEVER FAILS TO AMAZE ME bloody fucking genius with a shit load of talent!! Oscar Isaac supremacy.
when Layla was helping Steven put on the harness?? AND HE FUCKING SAID “I have to say, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.” And then looks down at Layla????
AND HE FEELS THE NEED TO ADD “The adventure, I mean.” JUST IN CASE SHE UNDERSTANDS IT DIFFERENTLY??
Haven’t seen that many angst fics, but I had an idea, and I really just wanna share because it’s sad hours™️ feel free to skip over this post because the idea might be poorly written but again. SAD HOURS™️
An angsty fic starting with a meet-cute for Steven and shy!reader, prior to all the events in Episode 1. Some tooth-rotting fluff at the beginning to build on how sweet and soft their friendship is and how safe they feel with each other.
Maybe the reader isn’t that knowledgeable about Egyptian mythology, but they simply enjoy having Steven ramble on about the Ennead, what he’s learned about hieroglyphics, the afterlife, and everything in between. Harboring a little crush on Steven would be an understatement, truly </3 Steven would be blissfully unaware of this too, I would think.
Then everything else happens according to the episodes (minus Steven’s missed Steakhouse date), including him meeting Layla, realizing that he shares so many common interests with her, and becoming aware of Marc. Maybe the reader could have been dropping something off right when Layla was at Steven’s place, prior to the whole scarab search but after the “I would never divorce you” line, but gets left behind with no further trace of Steven nor Layla after hiding from the “cops” who searched his apartment.
Anyway, he’s gone for days at a time because he and Marc are all the way in Cairo, and obviously, with all the time he’s ending up spending with Layla, he starts becoming all heart-eyed for her, especially since she technically is Marc’s wife, and since he’s Marc’s alter,,, sigh. Marc obviously still loves her, too, so choosing between Layla and the reader… The answer would be pretty obvious, wouldn’t it?
If anyone has any Steven or Marc angsty fics, please link them to me </3
Here is a preview of my Moonknight thot that just won’t leave my mind no matter how much I want to continue with Time After Time. Also, this is the first thot I’ve written that isn’t a Pedro character in…well…forever
Let me know if you would like to be tagged!
That night he walked in with a bright smile, eyes bright and clear, unlike the other occupants of the cafe. The radio is playing some 70s hit when his brown eyes meet yours, making your heart thump in your chest.
“Hiya. Can I get a coffee?” He asks. “Pardon?” You blink, startled slightly by his sunny disposition. Most Londoners would groan at his upbeat attitude at this time in the morning, but you find it refreshing. “Oh, uh, sorry. Can I - would you mind- sorry - can I get a coffee? With milk?” He stammers, making you swallow while you nod. “Yeah. Sorry. Coffee. With milk.” You murmur, shifting over to the machine to make his coffee.
Steven watches you, noticing how your shoulders are a little slumped from exhaustion, and he knows he must look like that more often than not. Tonight, he feels energised. A rarity for an insomniac. Perhaps he has finally gone crazy from lack of sleep. You set the cup of coffee down on the counter, punching the keys on the till before you tell him how much he owes you. Handing you the coins, you count them before you open the till drawer, handing him his change of 50p.
“Take a seat wherever you want.” You offer, leaning against the counter while watching him fumble slightly to hold his cup and whatever book he has tucked under his arm.
The last hour of your shift drags on, nurses and doctors, cabbies, and bus drivers come and go, but Steven remains, nursing his now cold coffee while reading his book.
Eventually, the sun starts to rise, and you notice how his eyelids droop. “Excuse me mate, but you are falling asleep. Maybe you could go have a kip.” You tell him, biting your lip to smother your giggle when he comically opens his eyes. “Shit.” He hisses, rubbing his cheek, and you feel a little sorry for him. “Sorry. Sorry. You must be closing soon.” He rasps, forgetting himself, and he scrambles to close the book, dropping the piece of paper he scribbled on.
This time you do giggle, “it’s a twenty-four-hour cafe. You’re fine. It’s just - my shift has ended.” He nods, glancing around at the people filing into the cafe for their morning fry-ups. You notice the paper, bending down to pick it up for him, and your eyes widen slightly at the hieroglyphics he’d drawn.
“Khonshu.” You murmur, frowning at the paper, and he tilts his head. “Excuse me?” He frowns. “The god of moon and time. Ancient Egyptian.” You clarify, and Steven stares at you in shock. “You know - you know what this means?” You nod, “yes. I - I am working on my Ph.D. in Egyptology.”
Steven’s eyes widen even more, and he is shocked. Your boss walks in before Steven can say anything else, calling out your name. You sigh, standing up and handing the paper back to Steven. “Sorry. I, uh, gotta go. My boss can be a right prick when he comes in, and I want my cheque.” You offer Steven one last smile before you walk away, untying your apron as your replacement scrambles to make the coffees and teas for the morning rush.
Steven stares at your retreating figure before his watch beeps, cursing when he realises he will be late for work.
