#marc sugar

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 8

Masterlist || Part Seven || Part Nine

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 4.6k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

“What’s that look for?” Steven asks when he walks into your apartment.

You greet him with a grin, almost bouncing on the balls of your feet. You couldn’t wait for him to get here.

Your hands are on his chest, his on your waist, and you’re leaning into him before the door is even closed. “How do you feel about getting dressed up and being my date in two weeks?”

Steven seems to catch on to your excitement, realizing something is up. “This isn’t a regular date, is it?”

You shake your head. “Charity auction. I just got word today that I have an opening for my plus one, and I want you to come with me.”

He frowns, his hands twitching against you. “You had another date?”

“Just Dan. He had to cancel. He’s having a surprise party for his son that day.”

Somehow, Steven’s frown manages to deepen. “Who’s Dan?”

You feel him start to pull away, but you slide your hands up and lock them behind his neck, preventing his escape. There’s an elated tingling in your chest, and you soften your expression.

“Dan is my CFO. He always goes with me to these things to handle all the schmoozing because I don’t like talking to people.” Steven’s shoulders relax under your arms, the lines easing from his face. You press a reassuring kiss on his cheek. “Is that an acceptable answer?” you tease.

Steven sputters, though his hands are pressed more firmly against your waist, pulling you closer.

“If you wanted to be with other men, who am I to stop you?” he says. Though you can hear the relief in his voice, you also detect a lingering nervousness.

Your lips move to his jaw. “Too bad I don’t want to be with other men.”

Steven’s breath hitches. “No?”

You shake your head, inadvertently yet wonderfully nuzzling into him. “I only want you.”

A bold statement to say to a baby, but that’s how you’ve been lately. It started before your vacation just two short weeks ago, but it’s grown since then, and so far, you haven’t had reason to stop.

You only want Steven, which may be more than a little dangerous for you. You have sugar babies because they’re not like traditional relationships. They’re easier for a number of reasons, and generally, you don’t develop…certain feelings for your babies. They dutifully fulfill their role as companions, and you’ve always been fine with that.

But Steven has become more than just another baby to you. If you’re not careful, you could end up hurt.

“Oh,” Steven breathes, apparently all he can say. He’s practically vibrating against you, though, telling you all you need to know about how your words affected him.

Then, he says, “Good,” and kisses you. Steven is holding onto you like he can’t bear to let you go, and you return the intensity in kind. Your hands are in his hair, nails scraping along his skin.

He nips at your lips, drawing a gasp from you.

He’s been getting bolder, too.

When you finally part, Steven’s pupils are blown wide, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so… possessive.

“I should make you jealous more often,” you tease, trying to hide your elation that Steven seems to only want you, too. You’re not the best at reading people, but unlike some, Steven has never tried to hide how he’s feeling.

“No,” Steven says softly before burying his face in your neck, his hands roaming along your back. “I don’t want to hear about you with other people.”

Your heart is beating so fast; it’s a wonder it’s still in your chest.

Maybe, with Steven...

You didn’t pick this dress for Steven. That’s what you tell yourself anyway. You liked it because the fabric isn’t itchy, and the fit isn’t too tight. Nor did you pick it because you know it gets you lingering stares.

No, you chose it because you thought it was pretty. That was all.

The lie only worked until Steven saw you coming down the stairs.

His eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open. You saw him nervously playing with the cuffs of his jacket, endlessly twitching, until he spotted you.

The dress isn’t flashy—this is a classy fundraising event, after all, not a film premiere—but it exudes a quiet power.

It’s floor-length and midnight blue, with a shallow v-cut neckline that provides only a hint of cleavage. The sleeves are long, trailing a mere inch above the hem of the skirt, your heels saving them from touching the floor, and split just above the elbow for ease of use of your arms.

The finishing touches are the silver jeweled appliques on your shoulders in the shape of starbursts. They square out your shoulders, giving the illusion of perfect posture and fierce demeanor.

Not wanting to do the work yourself, you visited a salon earlier in the day to get your hair and makeup done. Steven saw that before the completed look, and even then, he was stunned by you. Your hair is pulled into an elegant bun to show off your neck, not a single strand out of place. Even the pins are carefully hidden, making your hair appear magically held in place. Your makeup isn’t heavy except for your eyes. Dark lashes and liner pulled into sharp angles, softened only by silver shadow across the lid. A deep wine-red lipstick completes the look.

Your only accessories are silver earrings to match the appliques and a clutch made to perfectly match the fabric of your dress. That way, you can carry it as your side without drawing the eye too low.

The only flaw with the whole ensemble is that you can’t wear the bracelet Steven gifted you. The gold makes it clash with the silver on the dress. You probably wear the bracelet too much, anyway; pearls are too soft to be worn every day, but you can’t bear to part with it. It was a struggle not to pick another dress entirely to match the bracelet or even take the dress in to have the appliques replaced with gold versions.

You’re afraid that would have been too much, though, and decided against it.

Even without the bracelet, Steven is still in awe of you, and that’s all that matters.

“I think I forgot how to breathe,” he says when you reach him.

Heat builds in your face as you say, “I could say the same about you.” You can’t help but reach out and smooth a hand across his right shoulder and down his chest.

Steven’s suit is black with the bowtie, of course, custom-made to match your dress. It is, admittedly, a little uninspired in terms of men’s fashion, but the norm for events like this. But even still, the suit is cut to Steven’s body perfectly, showing off his figure in the way only fine tailoring can do. His look is complete with artfully slicked-back hair, a style typically reserved for special occasions, leaving him looking a little less like your Steven. The Steven you’re used to.

After your many dates, you already know he cleans up nicely, but it’s still a sight to see every time.

“Only the best for you, love,” Steven says with a simple, offering his arm.

Though any event attended by the wealthy is used as an informal business opportunity, they are also for showing off. The nouveau riche tends to do so by wearing fancy clothes and jewelry. They make a show of how much money they have, bragging about mansions and vacation homes in foreign countries.

Old money falls into quieter luxury. The things they show off aren’t objects but rather something intangible. They talk of things such as new business dealings or proudly state that a spouse or child has a new position within a corporation or even the government, displaying not just their wealth but their power.

You, though, do neither of those things, not now that you have others to do the talking for you. Now that Dan isn’t here, you don’t have to listen to yet another round of your accomplishments being listed to potentially interested parties who could be convinced to invest or point your company toward more lucrative dealings.

You already did your time playing the rich man’s game at previous functions over the years, learning and avoiding all the faux pas typically done by those who haven’t learned to act like they were born to this. Some of the others forget your money is just as new as the overly flashy crowd. You know how to blend in; you’ve had to do it all your life. Things aren’t much different now, even though the crowd has changed.

And even though you tend to dislike these functions for the most part, you still have your own showing off that you want to do. There’s a reason you can fit in around here, after all.

You want everyone to see Steven on your arm.

Some, if not all, of your peers may suspect what he is to you. You don’t care, and chances are they won’t either. Some of them will likely have their own sugar babies in attendance with them. But you want to show them that none compare to your Steven.

None of them are as free or as open as he is. He doesn’t have to pretend to be air-headed to keep your interest, and as handsome as you think he is, he’s more than just a pretty face who fawns all over you.

You don’t plan on staying for long. A brief appearance usually appeases the more judgmental crowd. You’re not so renowned that you can decline all invitations with a small six-figure apology for your absence. It isn’t so bad, though. You do like dressing up on occasion, and it’s the perfect excuse to get Steve dressed up, too. You’re always looking for an excuse to make him into a model for your personal photoshoots, pictures tucked away in a folder on your phone.

After a flute or two of champagne, a respectable bid on something that isn’t terribly ugly, and enough people seeing—and admiring—Steven at your side, you’ll head home. The night will end at your apartment with your baby wrapped around you and a healthy transfer into Steven’s account for the pleasure of his company.

Ever since you and Steven returned from Germany, he’s been sleeping in your room with you whenever he stays the night. His bed has practically been untouched for the last couple of weeks; his own apartment even less so. These days, his room is just extra storage space for Steven to toss his clothes onto, and you couldn’t be happier. You’ve come to look forward to your new nighttime routine.

“So, do you get a paddle? Will there be a man talking so fast you can barely understand him?” Steven asks as the two of you enter the venue—a gorgeous art gallery, the host of the event.

“As fun as that would be, I’m afraid this is a silent auction,” you sigh. “You’ll only see this crowd at an auction like that if the lots are full of less-than-legal items.”

“What, really?” Steven asks in disbelief. “Aren’t those for, I dunno, shady people?”

“Oh, Steven,” you say indulgently. “These will be some of the shadiest people you’ll ever meet.”

Glass in one hand, Steven’s arm in the other—with him dutifully holding your clutch—you make your way through the gallery. Many of the pieces up for auction are paintings. They’re usually donated by some of the night’s guests looking to redecorate their homes. This way, they can get rid of the old paintings and find something unique for their newly refreshed foyer, all the while pretending they did it in the name of a good cause.

A few sculptures are scattered about, but those are usually never quite as popular. You also spot different memorabilia, either for some sport or another, or even items from a particularly beloved movie or actor.

Tonight’s selection also contains vintage handbags and jewelry. You’re sure there are other items about, but you’ve always had particular tastes and have rarely found items at an auction that you’re genuinely interested in. You only look because it’s expected of you.

A call of your name makes you pause, searching for the source.

Coming toward you is Daphne, a wealthy widow in her fifties. Like you, she doesn’t have the pedigree of some of the others, having “married up” after meeting her husband. Because of that, she’s never been as uptight as some of the other people you’ve interacted with, and as a result, you’ve always liked her.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, giving her a quick hug, mindful of your glass and hers. “It’s been ages.”

“You’ll need to squeeze me into your busy schedule for dinner some evening,” she teases. When she pulls away from you, she turns to Steven and says, “This isn’t Dan.” She looks him up and down, a knowing smile on her face.

“I’m Steven,” he quickly says, tensing beside you, apparently still a little jealous about your coworker.

“My date,” you provide without needing to as Daphne and Steven shake hands. 

“Is he good?” Daphne asks you after introducing herself. She can guess that Steven is your sugar baby. She knows that’s your usual relationship, and she often has one of her own. She’s one of the few people you’re comfortable talking about babies with.

You glance over at Steven as if evaluating him. His nervous twitching has returned, and you’re unsure of the exact cause. A frown threatens to pull down the corners of your mouth, but you don’t let it succeed.

“He’s good,” you tell Daphne, giving Steven’s arm a reassuring squeeze. His cheeks darken.

He’s still responsive and isn’t blocking things out, a good sign that he’s not about to shut down.

“Where did she find you? I’ve been looking for a new man,” Daphne says, turning back to Steven. She always treats babies like people, unlike some who treat them like shadows, inconsequential, and best left seen and not heard.

“At the National Art Gallery,” Steven replies, a little strained, unsure what he’s allowed to say. “I work there and she was enjoying the exhibits.”

Daphne’s eyebrows raise slightly. She was likely expecting him to give a website. You usually prefer your babies to go through a screening process, so she knows picking up one at random—in person, off the street—is unusual for you.

“How serendipitous!” she exclaims with a genuine smile. Daphne then leans in toward Steven. “Now, tell me, Steven, how do you like your job?” she asks quietly with a pointed glance toward you.

Before you can say anything to try to reign Daphne in, Steven looks at you, his expression softening, the nerves falling away.

“It’s not really a job, though. Not to me. I just…like being around her.”

Your face starts to heat up as Daphne’s eyes flit back and forth between you, a knowing smile on her face.

“Good! Well, I won’t keep you,” she says, stepping back. “You two enjoy your evening. And I’ll be calling your assistant next week about dinner.”

After your goodbyes to Daphne, you and Steven continue walking around the gallery hall. You point out some rather dreadful pieces and make some talk with some of the other guests. As time goes on, you notice Steven steadily getting more quiet. You don’t think much of it. Putting on a show, even a minimal one, can be draining. His uneasiness has been following him all night, so you remind yourself not to stay longer than needed and keep moving.

“What do you think of this one?” you ask Steven, looking at the least ugly of the handbags. You’re still trying to find something to bid on that you could stomach the thought of taking home.

Before he can answer, the sound of shattering glass and a startled yelp fills the hall. Suddenly, Steven steps closer to you, his arm thrown protectively across your body as he searches for the source of the disturbance, his body tense.

“It’s alright,” you reassure, gently placing a hand on Steven’s arm. “Someone knocked into one of the servers.”

The tension leaves Steven, and his arm falls. You’re a little shocked. You’ve never seen him react like that before, though you haven’t exactly been in any situations where he would need to try to protect you.

“Sorry, I just….” He trails off, his voice sounding lower than usual. He shakes his head, confused. “I don’t know why I did that.”

You squeeze his arm. “Steven, are you alright?” you ask softly. “You’ve been a little off tonight.”

A slight frown forms on his face as he looks at you. “I’m fine. I promise,” he says, his voice mostly returning to normal. Then he gestures to the handbag you were evaluating. “You were thinking of this one, yeah?”

“I was,” you agree, looking Steven over. You don’t think you need to pull the plug on the evening quite yet, but something is going on with your baby. You chat about the bag for a moment, both of you pretending everything is fine.

As the night goes on, Steven starts becoming more and more withdrawn. You could have sworn you heard him mumbling to himself at one point, but when you asked him what he said, he claimed it was nothing. Though he was hesitant at the beginning of the night, he at least still made polite, though limited, conversation with the other guests you stopped and spoke with. Now, even you can barely get a word out of him.

“I think this will look lovely in your room,” you say to him as you come to a stop in front of an abstract painting that’s nothing more than splashes of various shades of a questionable yellow. You’re trying to get some reaction out of him, trying to gauge his feelings.

Steven doesn’t look as nervous as he did earlier in the night, but his brow still holds a slight furrow, and his posture, though perfect, is rigid. When you lean into him, he’s not as soft as he usually is. He doesn’t return the favor, leaning into you as he always does.

Steven doesn’t react at all to your suggestion of the hideous painting. It’s like he didn’t even hear you.

“Steven, look at me.”

He inhales as if preparing for something and finally turns to face you, though he doesn’t quite meet your eye. You take his chin and gently tilt his face toward you, making him look at you.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Though you keep your voice soft, gentle, there’s no mistaking the order in the words. He stares at you, mesmerized or lost in thought—you have no idea.

“I don’t…feel like myself,” Steven finally says, his voice sounding…wrong. “Can we go?”

Your hand falls from his chin down to his chest. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?” Usually, if Steven wasn’t up for something, he would tell you immediately. This isn’t like him at all.

Steven takes a second to answer. “I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

Your gaze softens, and any irritation, however mild, leaves you. “You could never ruin my night,” you tell him, filling your words with admiration.

You quickly turn around, typing in a random amount on the tablet for the ugly yellow painting, placing your bid, and making your mark for the evening. Then, taking Steven’s hand, you start heading for the exit. “Let’s go.”

As you wait outside, you start mentally running through everything you have at home that might help Steven. If tonight just made him anxious, maybe even overstimulated, then you can have him change into something comfortable, dim the lights, and make everything nice and quiet. You can even brush out his slicked-back hair if he’ll let you touch him. Whatever he needs to makes him feel more like himself.

If he’s feeling sick, you’re sure you have something in the cupboards to help. If you don’t, you’ll just have someone deliver it.

“Can we go to my place?” Steven asks suddenly as your driver pulls the car up to the curb.

“What?” you say automatically, pulling from your thoughts and leaving you momentarily confused. “Are you sure?” To say that you aren’t a little hurt that he doesn’t want to be at your apartment would be a lie.

“Yes, please. I…need to be there,” Steven says, again, not looking at you.

You ignore the slight wound and focus on your baby’s needs instead. If he wants to be at his place, then that’s what you’ll do for him. After instructing your driver to go to Steven’s apartment, you take his hand again. It’s limp in yours, but he doesn’t pull away.

When the car stops in front of his building, Steven practically leaps out, pulling his hand from yours and leaving you behind.

You sit there, absolutely stunned and left unsure of what to do. Steven didn’t technically invite you up to his apartment, but neither did he bother to say goodbye.

Confused and more than a little hurt, you gather your clutch and sleeves and follow Steven out of the car, telling your driver to wait for you. You don’t exactly have a plan as you follow Steven into the building, narrowly catching the door before it closed and locked you out, but you hope to get some sort of answer from him.

Steven does a double-take when you slip into the elevator right behind him. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting you to follow. As the lift slowly grinds its way upwards, you and Steven are again silent, with him steadfastly avoiding eye contact.

Too stressed, too focused on Steven, you don’t process anything about the building itself. Any other day, you’d be thrilled to finally be allowed into Steven’s private space, but right now, you can’t think of anything other than what’s going on with your baby.

A dark part of you starts to whisper that it’s you. You did this to Steven and he wants out. But then a more rational part of your brain argues that he never would have looked at you the way he did just a few short hours ago if that were true. You’ve known Steven long enough to realize what a terrible liar he is. He couldn’t have faked his awe.

Whatever is happening, it’s something else. Something happened to him after you arrived at the gallery that caused him to act like this. You just need to know what so you can fix it.

The doors to the elevator open, on which floor, you have no clue, and Steven leads you off toward his apartment, no longer rushing to get away from you but notably keeping his distance.

Pulling his key from his pocket, Steven unlocks his door, allowing you into this part of his life for the first time. You had always wanted it to be under better circumstances.

The first thing you notice is the books. It’s not that you didn’t believe Steven when he told you how many he has, but hearing about it and seeing it are two very different things.

They are stacked everywhere. Shelves are overflowing, and neat piles are littering the entire apartment. There are even some spilling into the kitchen, gathered around the shelves that serve not only to separate the space from the rest of the flat but also host the tank for Steven’s pet goldfish, Gus. Before you can take in much else, Steven is moving away from you, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Then he grips the back of the chair, the jacket bunching under his fingers. When he still doesn’t say anything, you do what you always do: take care of him.

Spotting a kettle on the stove, you make your way toward it, glazing at the wall immediately to the right of the door, taking note of the map and various postcards.

From his mom.

You suppose it’s something since, as far as you’re aware, she’s yet to return any of Steven’s various calls. Steven even told you this apartment is technically hers, but you’ve wondered more than once if she’s ever returning to London.

Grabbing the kettle, you take it to the sink, fill it, and put it back on the stove before opening the cupboards and hunting for a mug. Thankfully, the teabags are on the counter, left in their original tin. Steven’s eyes follow your every move. Only once you set down a mug and patiently start waiting for the water to boil does he finally speak.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you tea. Sit.”

Steven takes a step toward you. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” you say sternly, turning to face him. Steven pauses, a little taken aback. “Sit,” you repeat more gently and return to your task. He pulls out a chair, the legs scraping along the floor, and obediently sits.

As the kettle whistles, you take it off the heat and pour the water into the mug. The silence is overwhelming as the tea steeps.

“Is it me?” you ask after a couple of minutes. You keep your back to Steven as you move around the kitchen again, hunting for sugar. Even though you don’t believe it is you—not entirely, anyway—you need to know what it is. You need to be delicate and the best way is to ease into it.

Steven doesn’t answer you until you stand across the table from him and set the tea by his hands.

“No. It’s not… it’s not you.” He shakes his head. “You’re… you’re good.” He goes silent again. He doesn’t touch the tea.

You wait for a moment before moving around the table to stand at his side. Sucking in a breath, you’re about to speak but hesitate. Maybe you should let it go and let Steven work out whatever’s wrong in his own time. Ultimately, though, you continue.

“Is it something you don’t want to talk about, or is it something you don’t want to talk to me about?”

Steven’s posture stiffens even more as he keeps his gaze on his hands. After showing no signs of responding, you reach out, taking his chin and turning his face toward you for the second time tonight.

“Steven.” Nothing else. Just his name and the unspoken plea for him to give you some sort of answer.

His eyes search yours for a moment before he takes a steadying breath. “I can’t tell anyone,” he quietly admits. “I’m sorry.”

You nod. Some things are too hard to share. You won’t begrudge Steven that. “But you’ll be okay?” Steven nods, your hand still on his chin. Leaning down, you kiss his cheek. “I’ll be here to listen if you can tell someone someday.”

When you pull away, Steven’s face is redder than you’ve seen in months.

“O-okay,” he breathes, his voice a touch shaky.

You hate to do it, but you know you should leave. Whatever Steven’s going through, he’d rather do it alone. You have no right to intrude upon his personal life as much as you have tonight. You’ve done all you could and can’t blame him for not wanting to open up to you.

You’re just his sugar mommy, after all.

You step away from Steven without another word and take the agonizingly short yet still too-long walk to the door. Swinging it open, hand on the knob, you glance back, catching Steven’s eye before he quickly looks away. For a moment, he looked like a complete stranger staring back at you.

Shaking the thought from your head, you pull the door shut softly behind you.

[age-of-moonknight]

A Mighty Marvel Team-Up — Spider-Man: Quantum Quest! Graphic Novel. Amulet Books, 2024.

Writer and illustrator: Mike Maihack

[bezzplaining]

This pic gonna haunts me for the eternity.

[xmalereader]

• MoonKnight Sugar Daddy AU •

You can also find more stories under the MKSugardaddy tag and more stories can be found on my Main Masterlist too!

『 Warnings: Sugar daddy au, reader is the daddy, main pair is with Steven, mentions of DID, short stories, fluff, angst, Egyptian gods, Khonshu and Anubis, Jake and Marc are around, power, money, nsfw 18+ 』

〈 l 〉~ 〈 ll 〉~〈 lll 〉

Summary: After the events in Cairo, Khonshu finally frees them (not really) and both Steven and Marc are back to having a normal life. Steven tries to get his job back at the museum but Isn’t succeeding. So, what happens when the owner of the museum takes in interest in Steven and not only gets his job back but spoils the man with riches.

〔 Short Story 〕

〈 l 〉

Summary: Reader travels to Gotham to meet an old family friend with Steven coming along. ( A short story of the sugar daddy AU series with a slight crossover between Bruce Wayne and Steven grant )

〈 ll 〉

Summary: Steven hasn’t heard from the reader in weeks due to his busy schedule. Once he returns back from his work trip he pays him a visit only to find the reader sick and alone.

〈 lll 〉

Summary: Steven finally tells reader about Marc after a few months into their relationship, no longer wanting to keep his alter a secret from the person they love and care.

〈 lV 〉

Summary: Reader meets Jake and shows him his work as the avatar of Anubis along with revealing further secrets and starting a new friendship.

Ongoing…

【 Headcanons 】

Private Time

[urmomgoodwoman]

Thirty Seconds To Mars - Hurricane

[wolflover2426]

Crack Prompt: Marc and Nathaniel are busy coming up with a special arc for their superhero comics and wonder about their classmates who have been akumatized except for two which are Adrien and Marinette.

It eventually leads to a discussion of the first arc with an akumatized Adrien fighting against Ladybug and Chat Noir. The second arc was a bit more tricky because the duo knew just how much Marinette has the skills to be the most devastating akumatized villain ever so they had to include the rest of the class except Marinette to flesh out the details.

It all spirals into oblivion like Alya coming over with a conspiracy board of just how much damage an akuma Marinette can do and also doubles as a meeting to come up with ways to make sure Marinette never gets akumatized.

[cam1lla]

Can the ultra super sweet gourmand trend END please? We have enough!!!!! We don’t need another pistachio vanilla caramel cotton candy waffle cone surprise!!!! You people call Santal 33 “basic” but you smell like every girl on “fragrance TikTok”!!!!!!

[pickletrip]

Sailom daydreaming about his lover.

Such a cutie.

[imsparky2002]

My feelings about Canon Nathaniel

Nathaniel Kurtzberg's canon self is not someone I support. I find his design and concept great, but the execution is horrible. While Nath is usually in the background, anytime he does appear has been either forgettable or unpleasant to watch.

He never apologizes to Marc or Marinette for his actions in Evillustrator or Reverser

He can be incredibly nasty when he feels wronged, as seen by ripping up Marc's notebook and never saying sorry for it. All he says is that he "might have jumped the gun". MIGHT?! Yeah that's an understatement!

He draws his classmate Marinette without her permission, in situations where she is in love with his self-insert. Even creepier when you consider that Marinette's dad is a self-insert for Thomas Astruc and Sabine is based off of a real life woman he had a crush on.

He spends all this time saying how much he wants to be a superhero but when Ladybug finally gives him an opportunity? He initially turns her down. WTF, Nathaniel, I thought this was your dream? Oh wait, it's because you don't like playing on a team. Sorry, Nathaniel, you can't be the center of the universe.

He doesn't show any interest in Marc's passions about soccer, and gets Marc to make an excuse for him. Nath, don't use your boyfriend like that!

In general, Canon Nath feels like a "nice guy", someone who mopes about being a lone wolf and acts like the whole world is out to get them, all while being a creep and jerk.

Side note, his English VA is a creep. Also the only time he's sorta tolerable is when him and Marc suddenly become Adrinette obsessed stans. Speaking of which, I do find Canon Marc's personality change from Season 2 to Season 4 to be kinda jarring, but overall he's much better than Canon Nath. Fanon Nath? He's cool, he's awesome. Canon Nath?, fuck that guy. Canon Marc deserves better.

Make sure to reblog and lemme know what u think in replies.

@artzychic27 @msweebyness

[miraculouswolf99]

In the Penalteam Marc au, the class are celebrating Chloe finally being punished even though it is only a 2 week suspension. While Adrien doesn’t celebrate, he does agree that Chloe deserves her punishment.

Maybe their can be a part where Chloe who in boredom looks in a sports magazine, sees the article and interview of Marc. She throws the magazine in a fit of rage blaming him and the heroes for “ruining” her life.

Adrien would not celebrate with the rest even when he does understand why they would be celebrating. By that point, he would be aware of how badly Chloe treats everyone around her and he would be completely out of excuses. He wouldn't scold anyone, but he also would be grieving a friendship that he had since he was a little kid. He believes in justice, so he would completely understand that Chloe deserved her punishment. Something that Chloe would see as a betrayal, but he would be completely done with her by that point.

Marc getting the spotlight he deserves while making Chloe even angrier would just be the cherry on top. Especially since even if she would get akumatized because of her anger, the heroes would show her no mercy. Including scolding her after they would de-akumatize her over her getting akumatized over being rightfully punished.

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 7

Masterlist || Part Six || Part Eight

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

You open your eyes to morning sunlight streaming through the window and an empty bed. Currently, that’s the norm for you and isn’t unusual. But you distinctly remember Steven crawling into bed with you last night.

There haven’t been any more disappearing acts since the first night he stayed at your apartment, but it’s the first thing on your mind when he isn’t beside you.

Maybe he went back to his room.

Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

Maybe it means nothing. You’re in a foreign country, after all; Steven doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go.

You close your eyes and try to relax, but now you’re just thinking of him having another sleepwalking episode and all the places he could get lost in an unfamiliar country. With that thought in your head, you rip off the sheets and jump out of bed, needing to find Steven and know he’s okay. You don’t care that he’s not in bed with you so long as he’s still here.

The bedrooms and bathrooms are empty.

Notably, Steven’s bed doesn’t look like it’s been touched.

You glance at the living room—still no Steven—and are about to rush toward the door to check the locks when you hear something behind you.

“Oh no. I wanted to wake you,” Steven pouts.

You quickly spin around and find him standing in the doorway to the terrace.

“W-what?” you sputter as you stare, confused.

“I was going to wake you for breakfast.” Steven gestures through the doorway toward the table that is absolutely overflowing with food. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Your shoulders relax, tension flowing out of you. Your heart is steadily slowing down. “Oh, Steven…”

“Are you alright?” he asks, stepping toward you. “You looked scared there for a second.”

You almost feel silly for being so worried. “It’s nothing.” You give a placating smile. “Let me wash my face, and I’ll be right back out.”

Steven’s hand is on your arm before you can step away.

“Talk to me. Please?” Steven asks softly, eyes full of concern.

It’s a strange feeling having your baby ask after you out of genuine concern. It’s not like the others were cold or particularly distant, but most understood the business arrangement…differently than Steven.

He says your name.

“I thought…you might have had another blackout. I was worried when you weren’t in bed,” you finally admit. You usually don’t share your worries with your babies, no matter what they are. You want them to see you as steadfast and confident. Unafraid.

But ever since the start, everything has been different with Steven.

He pulls you to him, his arms wrapping tightly around you. His lips brush against your temple. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Your arms slowly wrap around Steven. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced a role reversal like this. Typically, you’re the one comforting someone, be it friends or family, or babies. You tend to keep things close to your chest and worry over others more than you should. You’re not sure what to make of this.

You love taking care of your babies. It’s the main reason you keep having them. But this—Steven’s arms around you, trying to protect you from your worries—is nice too.

Finally, you settle into him with a sigh. “Don’t take this to mean you shouldn’t tell me if it happens again,” you insist, having a feeling Steven might try to pull something like that.

He pulls away from you enough to look you in the eye. “No secrets, yeah?”

You blink at him, stunned. Something else that’s new for you. A new kind of worry tries to bubble up within you, but you push it down and ignore it.

“No secrets,” you repeat softly.

When he kisses you, you forget how to breathe. Then he guides you onto the terrace, pulls out a chair for you, and starts filling your plate.

As you look at Steven across the table over breakfast, you can’t help but think how lucky you are to have him, to have met him.

An unfamiliar warmth spreads through your chest. Similar to what you’ve felt for him before but…different. You don’t think about what it means.

“What are we doing today?” Steven asks after breakfast, once you’re both ready for the day. He looks you up and down, likely noting that you’re not as made up as you usually are.

“I guess you were half asleep when I mentioned a spa day last night,” you tease.

“What? No! I remember everything you say,” Steven insists dramatically, hand on his heart.

“So you remember how I said how much I wanted to visit the casino before we go back home?” You raise an eyebrow, carefully watching his face for a reaction.

“A-Absolutely, I do,” Steven answers, though his brow is furrowed, confused.

“You liar!” you cry, walking over to poke Steven in the stomach, a grin on your face. “I never said anything like that. It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Steven jumps back, raising his arms to defend himself. “Okay, now that makes more sense. I’m sorry, love.”

You stop your assault and wrap your arms around him instead. “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. Besides, I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.”

Steven looks at you adoringly. “How did I get so lucky?” he asks softly, more to himself than to you.

“Just by being you,” you answer anyway.

Steven looks away, bashful. “I’m nothing special.”

Taking his chin in one hand, you turn his face back toward you. “Now that’s just not true. Haven’t I taught you better than that?” you lightly scold. There’s no real heat to your words, but you’ve been trying to build up Steven’s self-worth for months.

You pause, thinking for a second. “Do you not believe me because I’m paying you?”

You don’t mean for the words to come out sounding so vulnerable, but they do. It saddens you a little to think that Steven might not be taking your words to heart.

You enjoy it when you get complimented like that, especially since it’s so rare for it to happen because of your professional and financial position and…lack of many close relationships. However sincere you are, you suppose you can understand why Steven would hesitate to believe you.

“No!” Steven argues. “It’s not that I think less of you because of our…relationship. It’s just…” he pauses, taking a breath. “I’m not like you. I’ve never done anything half as remarkable as you. Never started my own company. Never made a vast fortune. I’m just…me. Nothing exciting ever happened to me before I met you.”

That, at least, eases your worries about Steven having doubts about you. You don’t like the way he’s talking, though.

“You don’t have to have changed the world or been on exciting adventures to be remarkable. I like you exactly as you are. And there’s absolutely nothing ‘just’ about Steven Grant.”

Steven’s grip tightens around your waist, and his throat bobs, holding something back.

“Do I need to make you repeat how special you are again?”

He shakes his head, giving you a soft smile. “No.”

Then he’s kissing you, slow and gentle but filled with a seemingly newfound passion. One hand trails up your back, pressing you into Steven’s chest before it stops at the nape of your neck, holding you in place.

Your sense of balance shifts, and you realize Steven is tipping you back slightly. Though you trust he’d never let you fall, you cling to him. In a way, Steven has you trapped, held so tightly you can’t escape if you wanted to.

But you never want to.

If Steven wants to kiss you like this, leaving you utterly breathless for the rest of eternity, you’ll let him.

It occurs to you, then, that you might be a little fucked.

You’ve never seen Steven anything but fully clothed before. He’s never asked or even hinted that he wanted anything else, and you’re more than happy to respect his boundaries. It’s as you said when you explained everything to him in the beginning: you’re not going to force him to do anything and he has to be the one to initiate new interactions. 

That is to say, you can’t help but stare at Steven, clad only in the swim trunks you bought for him before the trip. You’ve seen half-dressed men before. Hell, you’ve seen completely naked men before. But the first time seeing an inch of skin of a new partner always excites you.

The two of you had made it to the thermal baths, just a short trip from the hotel. The natural heat of the water was soothing after the brisk morning air, but it was nothing compared to the heat in your face when you saw Steven step out of the changing room.

“And what you are you looking at?” Steven teases. He knows fully well what you’re staring at based on his smirk. You’re not exactly hiding it.

“Just admiring how handsome my baby is and watching the water glisten on his skin.” Steven flushes at that, even though he initiated it. What was he expecting? All you have for him are compliments. Even still, he is stunned by your boldness. You weren’t lying either; untrue flattery never sat right with you.

You’ve held Steven enough times to know he wasn’t exactly hiding much softness under his baggy clothes, but it was still a bit of a surprise to see the bit of defined muscle of his torso and arms. His stomach isn’t overly defined, but you know that cultivated abs are more for aesthetics than strength. You’ve no doubt that Steven is physically stronger than people would guess at first glance, especially when he’s done up as a gift shop clerk.

“If anything, I should be admiring you, not the other way around,” Steven says, cheeks still red.

“Steven, have you been staring at me?” You bring your arms across your chest, acting scandalized.

Steven sputters and averts his eyes even though you’re perfectly decent. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

You float closer to him, careful not to touch him. It would be very bad for you if you did. “Do you like looking at me?”

“Of course I do,” Steven says softly, eyes returning to you, drifting over your form. “You’re beautiful.”

You tell yourself the heat in your cheeks is from the water. It’s always been from the water.

Even though you know you probably shouldn’t, you quietly ask, “Do you like it when I look at you?”

You can’t take your eyes off Steven; at your words, you see his pupils dilate ever so slightly. He nods, lips parted.

“Say it,” you order. You lift one hand, trailing your fingers down Steven’s arm and making him shiver despite the heat engulfing him. You’re treading into dangerous territory. But you can’t help it, and Steven appears…very receptive.

“Yes,” he answers automatically, his eyes never leaving yours.

You drift closer still, now chest to chest, with only a handspan separating you. Your eyes fall to his mouth, your own parting when you catch his tongue quickly darting out to wet his lips.

A splash behind you startles you, sending you surging forward straight into Steven’s chest. His arms automatically raise to hold you, hands resting respectfully on your back, just under your shoulder blades. Suddenly, you’re reminded of where you are: in a public bath, surrounded by people. This is the last place you should be having…thoughts about your baby, who has, so far, expressed zero interest in a more physical relationship.

Even though you’ve had Steven in your arms countless times, it feels different now, with so little fabric separating you from his bare chest. You quickly move away, though you grab his hand as you always do. Even with the heat of the water, he feels different.

Is he warmer than usual?

“Let’s go over here,” you say, shaking the thought from your head and needing to separate yourself from the moment. “There’s fewer people. We should be able to enjoy the water more.”

You start dragging Steven behind you, and he follows along without argument or any words, for that matter. You’re not sure what he’s thinking; you can’t look him in the eye quite yet.

You manage to control yourself and your thoughts enough to enjoy that water. It’s not a regular pool, so there’s no playing or splashing around. Swimming is minimal as the water is only about waist high for the average person.

People are meant to relax in the waters and have a therapeutic experience while the minerals in the water soak into and rejuvenate the skin.

You and Steven sit on one side of the large pool, taking advantage of the built-in underwater ledge that surrounds the entirety of the curved edges. This particular pool is outside, so the two of you are able to enjoy the scenic views that were carefully curated so as not to ruin patrons’ sightlines with modern buildings.

You manage to not think about your hands on Steven’s bare chest.

Eventually, once your skin is primed and supple, you leave the thermal baths to go to your next destination: the spa. Specifically for a couple’s massage and then later a facial for you.

The only thing separating a couple’s massage from a solo one is the simple fact you’re in the same room as your partner. Even more intimate than being in swimming attire together, you’ll be partially undressed, a towel covering your lower half. Granted, you’ll be face down on a table the entire time, but still.

“We don’t have to do it together,” you say when you explain the procedure to Steven. Your appointment is at the hotel’s on-site spa, so you technically don’t have to undress around each other; you get ready in separate bedrooms and just wear your robes down to the spa.

You don’t have an issue being unclothed around your babies. Nudity isn’t inherently sexual, and you don’t consider this a sexual situation. You’re here to relax while a stranger eases the semi-permanent tension from your muscles.

But that’s your perspective, which doesn’t mean it aligns with Steven’s.

“We can always do separate rooms,” you continue, wanting to give Steven every out. Since your relationship hasn’t progressed past kissing, you’re unsure what his feelings will be. Yes, he admitted to staring at you in the pool, but you were still covered then.

“I want to be with you,” he insists. “I’m fine, I swear.” He doesn’t look at you, and his voice is slightly higher pitched than usual. He’s nervous at the very least, but if he says he’s fine, you won’t argue. He’s more than capable of making decisions for himself.

When the two of you are led to the massage room, you purposefully keep your back to Steven as much as possible as you disrobe. Even without the robe, neither of you is completely naked, still having some sort of bottom on. But you have no desire to make Steven uncomfortable with your casual nakedness.

Will he still try to look, though?

A little excited, you crawl onto the table and glance at Steven from the corner of your eye.

You fight the frown that attempts to form when you see he’s already on his table, face carefully set in the opening at the top and arms obediently at his sides.

Then there’s a knock on the door, and you have no choice but to lie down.

“Do you get massages often?” Steven asks you as the masseuses begin. You’ve been together for months, but this could just be something that hasn’t been brought up before.

“Not as often as I would like,” you sigh as your masseuse works out a particularly stubborn knot from your shoulder. “I feel like I never have the time, so I always book one whenever I go on a trip. Have you ever had one?”

“No,” Steven manages before letting out a satisfied groan.

What part gets him to make that sound?

“Sorry,” he says, and you think he’s apologizing to his masseuse. “More tense than I thought.”

After a moment and another unexpectedly pleased sound from Steven, he addresses you. “You know, love, you could—” He abruptly cuts himself off, the airy tone to his voice suddenly gone, as if he’s coming back to himself.

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t, and with your head down and forced to look at the floor, you’re unable to read his body language.

“I could what?” you prompt, confused.

“It’s nothing.” The answer comes quickly.

You almost ask if he’s sure, try to encourage him to finish his thought, but as hands glide over your back, you change your mind. It’s possible that whatever Steven meant to say is for your ears only.

The rest of the appointment passes in relative silence with only a pleased sigh from you here and there. You keep your ears open, hoping for something else from Steven, but he doesn’t let out another sound.

In other situations, that just wouldn’t do.

Stop it.

You would shake yourself if you could.

Once the massage is over, your mind buzzes more than it usually does after what is supposed to be a relaxing session. Steven is constantly bouncing around your mind today, and a part of you knows that isn’t necessarily a good thing.

You want to scold yourself for your mild obsession with your baby. One-sided attachments that go too deep always end badly.

But is it one-sided? He wants you to meet his mother, after all.

“Love?” Steven calls, pulling you from your thoughts. You’ve been standing with your back to him, staring off into the distance since you got off the table.

“Sorry, just thinking,” you say, finally turning to face him. Your eyes immediately lock onto his swollen lower lip. Reaching up, you run your thumb along it. It’s flushed red and has definitely been bitten. “I know I didn’t do that.” You look at him, eyebrow raised.

Steven flushes, his cheeks matching his lip. “I was trying to be quiet,” he answers softly. Likely embarrassed by the sounds he was making, you muse.

“You poor thing.” You keep rubbing your thumb along his lips. Then, as if hypnotized, you can’t think of anything else besides kissing him.

So you do.

You aim only for his lower lip, pressing gently against it as if to soothe a hurt.

“All better?” you ask when you pull away.

Steven nods, and your hand falls from his face to land on his chest, where you bury it in the fluffy fabric.

“I have my facial next. Do you want to try one?” You’re genuinely curious. Maybe he wants to get into skincare. Your eyes scan his face, pinpointing potential treatment areas.

“I’m not sure that’s for me,” Steven says, taking your free hand and leading you toward the door.

“Okay. Are you going to relax in the room then?”

“I dunno. Maybe I’ll do a little shopping while you’re busy.”

“Make sure to buy yourself something pretty,” you say as you and Steven are about to part ways. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand before leaving.

“Today wasn’t too boring for you, was it?” you ask Steven. Now after dinner, the two of you are in your usual place: lounging on the couch.

Even though you plan these vacations based on your preferences, you still want your babies to have fun. Steven enjoyed the park and the impromptu visit to the bookshop yesterday, but some men would rather be caught dead than go on a spa trip.

It may be the standard that sugar babies create a character that’ll please their mommy or daddy rather than be their true selves one hundred percent of the time, but you want Steven in particular to be entirely honest with you.

“Not at all! I don’t think I’ve ever been so relaxed, to be honest,” Steven answers. He’s at one end of the couch while you’re at the other, both of your legs up on the cushions and tangled together. He knocks one foot into your tight. “I would have told you before we did anything if I wasn’t interested.”

He did bow out of getting a facial, but that was almost a given. It would have been more surprising if he had said yes. A baby lying about certain things is expected. They do what they have to in order to keep their jobs.

“Are you sure? Because aside from today, you’ve never told me no before.” You never questioned it, but now you can’t help but think there’s a chance you’ve misread something or done something wrong.

Before you had money, finding people interested in the same things as you or doing certain activities you favored was few and far between. Making and maintaining friends can be a difficult endeavor. And now that you do have money, anyone new in your life is expecting more higher-class activities than walking through a park. Sure, that park may be in Germany across from a very nice hotel, but it’s still a park, and finding amiable friends is even harder now.

Steven laughs. “Alright, if you really want, I’ll get a facial.” You smile at his teasing, but he must see something in your expression. “I always say yes because I like spending time with you. I like the things we do together. You once said you’d never make me do anything I was uncomfortable with, and you never have.”

He then untangles his legs from yours and gets off the couch, only to step toward you and sit by your hip on the edge of your cushion. He takes your hands in his. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am when I’m with you. And just because you pay me,” he says it flippantly, like it doesn’t matter at all. Like it isn’t why he’s doing this. “Doesn’t mean I’d let you walk all over me.”

“What about Donna?” you can’t help but ask. Steven’s words are sweet; they make your heart race, but you find them hard to believe.

Steven fumbles a bit but quickly says, “That’s completely different. Technically, she doesn’t pay me. Not to mention, everyone knows I don’t like Donna. And…”

He goes quiet, his eyes wandering down your face. 

“And?” you ask breathlessly, needing him to keep talking despite your skepticism.

“And I definitely don’t want to kiss her.”

Heat flashes through you as Steven takes your face in his hands and leans into you. His lips meet yours, soft but urgent as if he could kiss the doubt from you.

And it works. For now.

You reach up, fisting your hands into his shirt to keep him close. You stay like that for a while, Steven wanting to thoroughly assure you of his honest honesty, his affection.

When you finally part, Steven staying at your side, you’re able to ask the question that’s been plaguing you for hours.

“What were you going to say during the massage?”

Steven freezes for a moment, caught off-guard. Then his face immediately starts to flush, exciting you. His hands are no longer on your face, instead resting in his lap. You reach out and rest one hand on his, patiently waiting for him to work up the nerve.

“It can’t be that bad,” you encourage. “You almost let it slip earlier.”

“It’s inappropriate,” he mumbles, suddenly shy as if he hadn’t just been making out with you.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Steven takes a breath, steadying himself. “You know…you could give me a massage anytime.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the electricity dancing along your skin. He’s gotten better about asking you for things, with the exception of more intimate touches.

“I just think…” he hesitates but finally meets your eyes, his pupils dilated. “It’s something a good mummy would do.”

“That’s not inappropriate at all,” you purr as you start running your hand up Steven’s arm. “But what about the other way around? Wouldn’t a good baby want to give his mommy a massage?”

“We can do that too,” he agrees eagerly. He’s starting to get jittery now that he knows you’re receptive. “I’m fine with either.”

“Good to know,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. Your hand stops on his bicep, and you squeeze, feeling the muscle hidden underneath his shirt. You can’t wait to get your hands on him properly, especially after what brushing against him in the baths did to you. “It’ll have to wait until we get home, though.”

Your hand drops from Steven, and you fall back into the arm of the couch.

“W-what? Why? Steven practically whines, and a grin blooms across your face. You can’t contain it; you don’t want to.

You don’t say anything at first, instead looking your baby up and down as he squirms.

“It’ll be something to look forward to. And it’ll give me a reason to not keep you here all to myself.”

You lean forward, your lips finding Steven’s neck in a fleeting kiss. He shivers under your touch.

“That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” he asks breathlessly, his eyes blown black.

“Not at all,” you agree and kiss him again.

You said nothing when, after getting ready for bed, you walked out of the ensuite bathroom and saw Steven in your bed. He had the sheets pulled up to his chin, watching you, waiting. He said nothing as you crawled into what had been designated as your side of the bed.

Before settling down, you gave Steven a chaste kiss on the cheek and said, “Night, Steven.”

He wished you a good night with a smile and a soft murmur of your name. You both fell asleep soon after.

Depending on the time of night, on how long you’ve been asleep, you’re not the lightest of sleepers. Random sounds throughout the night hardly ever wake you, but tonight, something does.

Eyes bleary with sleep and mind still foggy, you don’t realize what you see at first.

A dark shape standing by the window on the other side of the room. Rumblings that start as nothing but turn into…arguing?

Then you notice the empty side of the bed, sheets barely disturbed as if they were moved back into place. You start gaining clarity.

“Steven?” you call, your voice scratchy. “What are you doing?”

You don’t know what time it is, but surely it’s late.

Steven immediately stops talking. He turns away from the window and walks back to the bed, his movements somewhat stiff.

When he gets in, he doesn’t inch his way closer like he did before. Instead, Steven seems to be staying as far away as possible.

“Go back to sleep. Everything is fine,” he says softly. 

You don’t argue. Your eyes were already half closed as soon as he touched the sheets. It registers for a brief moment that something about Steven’s voice sounds…off, but you fall asleep before you can think about what it means.

“What were you doing last night? By the window?” you ask in the morning over breakfast.

“Pardon?” Steven asks, lifting his fork to his mouth.

“I woke up, and you were just standing by the window. I hear you talking. Was it your mom?”

Steven only looks confused, but then understanding and dread wash over you both.

Steven’s fork falls onto his plate with a clatter as he covers his face with both hands.

“It happened again,” he quietly cries. You rush to his side, pulling him to you.

“It wasn’t so bad. You answered when I called, and I don’t think you even left the room,” you try to reassure him.

Steven’s arms slide around your waist as he buries his face in your stomach. “What if it’s worse next time? The first time it happened, I wandered the city! I don’t remember anything that happened last night. And you said I was talking? To who? About what?”

He smothers a distressed sound against you.

“I don’t know, but you seemed to know who I was and where you were—enough to know to get into bed, at least.” You don’t think your words comfort him. One hand moves to brush through his curls. “We’ll figure this out. I promise,” you say with a confidence you don’t quite feel.

The morning’s revelation sours the mood for the remaining day of your vacation. Steven tries to remain in good spirits, but his worry about his sleepwalking hangs like a cloud over his head.

Though he loved everywhere else you had taken him, the tour of the ruins of a once great castle didn’t seem to hold his interest as much, try as he might to absorb the history the guide was providing and taking more photos.

The trip to the airport is silent. You’ve never been good at comforting people, often unable to find the words. You don’t know what else to say to Steven other than what you already have. What you can do, though, is be there for him.

For what you lack in words, you make up for in other ways. Making sure he ate, packing his things for him, holding his hand, and refusing to let go.

If your peers could see how you’re treating Steven, they would probably sneer and look down on you. Sugar babies are for providing comfort, in various forms, in exchange for material and financial gain. They aren’t meant to be looked after like children. But Steven is also in a vulnerable state, needing extra care where he usually wouldn’t.

Though you have no interest in children and don’t see Steven as one, you need somewhere to express your caring tendencies and affection. Sugar babies have always been the best and safest outlet for you. If your positions were reversed, you hope someone as kind as Steven would show the same care toward you.

“I’m sorry I ruined our holiday,” Steven quietly says as the jet starts moving. These are his first words in what you’re sure have been hours.

“You didn’t ruin it,” you assure with a shake of your head. You cradle his face in one hand and stroke your thumb across his cheek. “I had a great time because I got to spend it with you.”

“But I did. Ruin it, I mean.” Despite his disagreement, he doesn’t do anything to move away from you. “First with the sleepwalking, then the moping around. And then I felt bad for not talking, so I wanted to talk even less. I’ve been horrible to you.”

You shake your head again. “You haven’t—”

“Hush,” Steven cuts you off. You’re a little shocked, to say the least. He’s never done that before. “There’s something else. I thought about waiting for a better time since I didn’t get it as an apology, but I don’t want to wait.”

“What are you…” you trail off as Steven turns away from you and leans down to grab the backpack he kept at his feet instead of stowing away.

Finding whatever he’s looking for, he keeps his hand in the bag, and his attention falls back to you.

“That wasn’t how our last day should have ended, and I’m really sorry. This was how it should have ended.” Steven quickly pulls his hand out of his backpack and thrusts a small, hinged red box toward you. It’s perfectly square and is even tied with a white ribbon.

You stare at it, unmoving. “You got me a gift?”

Steven nods, and your heart skips a beat.

You carefully take the small box from his hand. People don’t…give you gifts. Your brain short circuits a little.

“When did you even get this?” You think back, trying to remember if you got any notifications that could tell you when and where Steven bought it.

“When you were getting your facial. I went on a trip around town.” You look up at Steven, then. You definitely didn’t know about that. “I wanted to find the perfect gift for you while we were here.”

“You didn’t use your card.” An accusation filled with confusion.

“I did use my card, just not the one you gave me. I wasn’t going to make you pay for your own gift.” He fidgets a little and gets a nervous look that has nothing to do with the jet taking flight. “Open it? Please?”

You examine the box again. Recognizing the shape, you can guess that it’s jewelry inside, but not what it looks like. It could be anything, and who’s to say what Steven thinks you’ll like. Now you’re the nervous one.

You say a silent prayer, hoping you actually like the gift and won’t have to crush Steven when he still isn’t in the best state of mind.

Carefully tugging on the end of the ribbon, the bow falls apart and slides off the box. The hinges are stiff, but you ease the lid open and peer inside.

Lying on a pristine white cushion is a bracelet. A strand of small, delicate white pearls is twisted around a thin, wire-like band of gold that is shaped into a repeating wave. Beautiful in its simplicity and daintiness, you find it stunning.

“Oh, Steven…” you say breathlessly, lightly running your fingers along the bracelet. Then, you thrust the jewelry box back toward him and hold out your left hand. “Put it on.”

Not the most elegant way to ask, but you’re practically buzzing with joy that you can’t think to ask properly.

With shaking hands, Steven carefully lifts the bracelet from its cushion. He struggles with the clasp but eventually gets it wrapped around your wrist. Then he grabs your hand and presses his lips to your wrist, just above where the bracelet settles.

His lips are barely off your skin before you take his face in your hands and pull him into a heated kiss. You can barely control yourself, but judging by the moan Steven lets out, you’d say he’s not complaining. 

“I did a good job?” he asks when you pull away, his face flushed and lips swollen.

“You did amazing. I love it.” You kiss him again. “Thank you, Steven,” you say softly, trying to put as much feeling as you can into the words, hoping he knows you mean them.

You’re thanking him for more than the bracelet. You don’t say it out loud—you can’t—but you’re thanking him for caring about you. For thinking of you and wanting to show you that you mean something to him. He’s not doing it because he feels he has to; he’s doing it because he genuinely likes you.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling; you almost don’t know what to do about it.

One thing you can say for certain, though, is that it makes you l—care about Steven all the more.

For the rest of the flight, you’re curled up against Steven as much as you can be, your head resting on his shoulder. Your hand rests on his, your bracelet flashing in the sunlight.

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[valiantphantomangel]

Way too much sugar!

Summary: when you eat a whole bag of jelly beans Marc has to tickle the hyper out of you!

"Y/N give it to me now, your gonna be hyper if you eat that" Marc stated.

You stole a bag of jelly beans from the top drawer when he and his other alter egos were not watching.

Smirking at Marc you ripped open the bag and put almost half of the bag in your mouth, laughing at his baffled expression.

"No" you could barely make out your own words because you were trying to eat the entire bag.

Marc just stared at you when you finished the bag in record time, but seemed to listen to someone you couldn't see. But when he grinned and looked at you with mischief in his eyes, you knew you were screwed.

"Well it seems that i have to TICKLE to hyper out of you hmm" he slowly started to approach you, keeping eye contact.

Your eyes widen and you backed away "Absolutely not" you said and darted for your bedroom.

Footsteps followed close behind and just when you reached your door, a arm wrapped around your waist and you were trapped in a bear hug.

"No running away now" he whispered in your ear and threw you on the couch, quickly straddling your waist.

He shot his hand under your arms and you arched your back, shrieking with laughter.

"HAHAHAHAHAH"

"what's the matter? Can't handle a bit of tickling" Marc laughs and shoots his hands into your sides.

You were trashing around trying to escape his hands, but to no use.

"Are you sure you have all your ribs"?

"yeshehehe now lemme gohahha, DONTHAHAHAH" you screamed in laughter and after 30 seconds you tapped out.

Marc pulled you up and sat next to you on the couch, with his arm around your shoulders and your head resting on his shoulder, you peacefully fell asleep.

"Goodnight Y/N" Marc whispered and kissed your forehead.

[marcmarcmomarc]

Miraculous

Chapter 10: Adrien’s Plan

(Morning. Marinette leaves Marriott’s Grande Vista and grabs her phone.)

MARINETTE: Hey, Ms. TK. Where are you?

LUNA-TK: (OVER PHONE) At the intersection down the street. We’ve invited you to see the worlds of the others.

MARINETTE: Absolutely. I’m walking out right now.

(In Adrien’s villa, the group does their morning routines: having breakfast, brushing their teeth, doing their hair, etc. Adrien returns.)

ADRIEN: Okay. I spent all morning thinking of a new way to bring Marinette back. We present her favorite hobbies to show her that we do care. My hope isn’t that high, but it’s worth a try. Markov, where is she?

MARKOV: She is leaving with Ms. Luna-TK. They plan to visit the worlds of her new friends. They are not from this dimension, though.

ADRIEN: Okay. We can’t follow them through.

ROSE: Why is that?

ALIX: I’d guess it’s because they’d probably trap us in their dimension by closing off our way back.

KIM: So we just wait around for her to leave?

CHLOÉ: That could take all day.

ALYA: Well, I guess it is worth it.

IVAN: Waiting or going in?

JULEKA: I think they mean waiting.

ADRIEN: Right. We find out when she’s coming back and enact our plan.

TRAVEL GROUP: Okay…Yeah…Alright…Sure.

[sbrown82]

Marsha having 2 songs called Brown Sugar talking about her is iconic as hell. She’s very superior.

Me every time I see Marsha Hunt:

Homegirl had all them white men’s noses wide open. Lmaooo Mick Jagger, John Mayall, Marc Bolan, Robert De Niro (and even Bob Marley) were all THIRSTY over her!!! ☕️😆💁🏾‍♀️

[xmalereader]

• Private Time •

Feel free to ask for headcanons! You can also check the MKSugardaddy tag for more along with checking the Main Masterlist!

Ask made by: @uwiuwi - I'm curious about their relationship and their sex life? I mean,are their relationship ever gonna move forward to something more deep? Or is it stuck to just hugging and cuddling? And 100% is curious about their position when they have decided to do it. I mean, marc and jake will be in reader and Steven relationship too right? Or not. I'm truly sorry if i passed the line.

Steven is a bit of a shy guy.

Due to his lack of dating in the past he’s turned out to be quite vanilla during the relationship, at first. Doesn’t mean that he isn’t willing to try new things or perhaps go out of his comfort zone to try new things. When he first got into a business-ship with Y/n as his sugar baby he expected a lot of sexual favors only to get the total opposite.

Steven expected things to be rushed once their relationship became official, but instead Y/n was always gentle with Steven. He was always given morning kisses, either when he wakes up in bed with Y/n or when arriving to work. Steven loved his gentle kisses and cuddles, but there were times where he wanted more.

But, each time Steven tried to take things further he’d chicken out, growing afraid and nervous that he wasn’t going to be good enough for his boyfriend. Steven knew about Y/n’s past relationships, none lasted long, but he knew that the man had done stuff with them. Which only made him doubt if he’d ever be good in bed.

It wasn’t until they were six months into the relationship that Steven asked to take things further. He’d randomly blurted it out one night when the two were making out in bed after his boyfriend’s return home from a trip in Spain. His tie lose, buttons undone on his dress shirt, and his hair was messy. The moment between the two was tense and heated that Steven had blurted out his confession.

“Are you sure?”

Steven’s never been so sure in his entire life.

He didn’t think he’d grow addicted to him.

After their first time together, Steven grew needy. Everytime he was alone with Y/n he took advantage of the moment to get into his boyfriend’s pants. The shy and closed up Steven that Y/n knew suddenly changed into a very clingy and needy one after that night. Steven grew confident and whenever they were in the mood he’d sometimes gain the courage to try something new.

He tried leading once only to grow flustered when he ends up in a position he found strange. He gave up on his attempt and let Y/n take control, he’d rather have someone tell him what to do when it comes towards sex since he was still a bit inexperienced in that area.

There was one time that Steven grew curious about the different things that people did during sex that he actually goggled porn videos in hopes of finding something new to try, let’s just say that the man was very traumatized by the things he saw and instead decided to stick with doing the decent stuff during sex before doing something more.

Marc on the other hand loved to tease Steven about his sex life, always poking fun of him whenever he made attempts to act dominate when he failed terribly at it. There were times that Marc wasn’t present during Steven and Y/n’s nights alone, but he did take a peek every one an awhile. He couldn’t help it!

Even though Y/n knew about Marc there were times where the two bonded with each other whenever it was Marc’s turn to take over the body while Steven sat back. Marc was more blunt and the total opposite of Steven, Y/n treated Marc as a friend when the two were together. The two cared for Steven and looked out for him, even though they shared the same body.

Marc was treated more as a friend whenever the were together he’d find ways to steal Y/n’s credit cards, using them to buy himself very expensive and luxurious things. Y/n didn’t mind at all, always getting money and no matter how many charity events he hosts or participates in, he always has a little extra left.

Jake on the other hand was far different from the two. He was far more serious and rarely talked to others unless he felt like speaking to them. Both Jake and Y/n see eye to eye, reaching each other’s level. There relationship is unique, neither Steven or Marc know about him, nor do they know that they are still under Khonshus control due to Jake still partaking into the deal with the god.

One would say that they are more partners when it comes towards working with the god of Death and the god of the Moon. There time together is rare which is why he rarely sees or hears from him, letting the man decide when it’s best to finally reveal himself to both Marc and Steven.

[artzychic27]

How would you do Horrificator Marc akuma?

First… He look like this

Second, as this isn’t a school project, and Nino probably just invited his friends (Plus Chloé) for support and to help out with equipment, Marc’s also joining in because according to Marinette, Alya shouldn’t have to write the script alone

They have a fun time collaborating on the script, geek out over comics, and Marc lets Alya in on his crush on Nathaniel

In short: Fast friends

The day of the shoot, it’s the same as canon: Myléne’s scared, Chloé mocks her, and no work gets done. Get the coffee

And then Nino has the audacity to change their script!

Marc: *While Alya holds him back* I’m gonna kill him!

Alya: Marc, no!

Marc: I will kill him!

(After Chloé sends Myléne crying) When they try to rewrite the script, Chloé calls their original ideas garbage or some shit like that because she doesn’t get to kiss Adrien

So now she’s just forcing Alya and Marc to write more romantic scenes between the two main characters and she ignores everyone’s criticisms because “Who cares? I’m better than these pathetic losers!”

But then Nath says (Read as murmurs)

Nathaniel: Bitch, who made you the director?

Chloé’s furious by that comment and yells at Nathaniel. By that moment, Marc’s had enough, turns Chloé around by her shoulder so she’s facing him and says to her

Marc: Say more shit about him, and I will rip that little ponytail off your head so hard that it’ll tear the scalp.

Then he storms out of the classroom and Chloé’s left looking as if she met Satan

Hawkmoth can’t decide between Myléne or Marc, so he just sends his Akuma to do whatever

It goes after Marc because anger is stronger than humiliation/sadness

It fuses with one of his chains, blah blah blah, Arachnus

Nathaniel goes looking for Marc because he’s boyfriend material, and finds only a bunch of spider webs on the floor

Meanwhile, the students are still trying get the movie back on track despite losing a writer and the lead actor, until they hear Nathaniel scream

They run out into the courtyard and find it all covered in webs, and his shoe is caught in one

Same as canon, they’re trapped, there’s no way out, and they need to find the Akuma to escape

So, they split up, allowing Marinette and Adrien to transform while making it look like they were kidnapped, too

As for Nathaniel, Arachnus keeps him trapped in the library because not everything needs to be like canon, and manages to talk the Akuma out of devouring his head several times

(Because spiders eat their mates’ heads)

Same fight as canon, Arachnus kidnaps everyone he can get his many hands on

Only when he tries to scare Juleka, he doesn’t get weaker, but still kidnaps her

Soon, they (Alya) realize that Arachnus is Marc when he didn’t try to hurt her when he had the chance (Because they’re friends) and she notices the hair

By the time they make it to the library, Arachnus is trying once again to eat Nathaniel’s head

Chat Noir manages to trap him under some bookshelves, but they won’t hold him for long, and they can’t get close enough to the Akuma without Arachnus trying to bite them

So, while Ladybug comes up with some convoluted plan with her Lucky Charm, Alya’s had just about enough, pulls out her nail file, cuts Nathaniel down, and has him kiss Arachnus to keep his distracted while she steals the Akumatized object and breaks it

Lucky Charm, and Marc and Nathaniel are still kissing

Alya: Ya welcome.