#steven grant fanfiction

[spicyllewyn]

Kinktober 6. - Mirror sex.

Moon system x F!Reader

Tags & warnings. Mirror sex + hair pulling. (+18)

Word count. 2.8k

Summary. Marc got tired of Steven and Jake breaking his rules.

Kinktober masterlist.

So far, the agreement had been going relatively well. You were in a serious relationship with Marc at first, you met in a café like those silly romantic movies, with the small difference that you almost killed him by spilling your cold drink on him and tripping over him.

Neither of you could deny that things were moving very fast, but everything with him was so ridiculously easy that you weren't afraid to give him your all. You told him about the pet you lost when you were young, about the disagreements with your parents, and the occasional traumatic event in your life. He did the same.

When he told you about Steven and Jake, you joked that he was winning the trauma competition, and he could breathe easy knowing that this was not even close to being an obstacle to your relationship. He could trust you.

Things began to get a bit out of control when everything also became easy with Jake and Steven, each with their own personal charm. You never imagined being with three very different guys, but starting to experience it was a real adventure. The problem was that while you were having fun, they had endless discussions about you and the boundaries they set for each other.

Well, the boundaries that Marc set.

The main and biggest one was that marks on your body were prohibited. He understood that all four were part of the relationship equally, but he also used something he liked to call "privileges of having met you first and being the main reason why everyone is together." Or something like that, he always changed the name for it, the thing is he couldn't help but be a jealous man, he hated that Jake and Steven would forget who you belonged to first.

The first one to break the rule was Steven, unconsciously. You didn't know anyone who was a bigger fan of make-out sessions than him, and when his kisses got deeper, more desperate, he had the habit of holding onto your hips as if you were about to run away at any moment, or as if he wanted to verify that you were real and that you were in his arms, devouring his mouth as if you depended on it to live.

That, combined with the fact that he had a terrible habit of forgetting that his muscles were stronger than he thought. You tried to be as discreet as possible when his fingers left marks on your skin, but with someone as touchy as Jake, it was impossible to keep secrets about your body.

He took it as a challenge, of course. If Steven could break the rules, why couldn't he?

The next day, you could be sure that he saw you as a blank canvas because your neck, your shoulders, and even your breasts were covered in bites and hickeys. You didn't remember him being so aggressive, but maybe pleasure had blinded you.

"What is this?" Marc held your chin, turning your face slightly, just enough to get a better view of your neck.

"It was Jake." You chuckled, still distracted by your phone as you let him guide you, without noticing how his jaw clenched, but feeling his fingers tighten on your jaw.

"Darling?"

Your eyes traveled to him.

"Mhm?"

"Will you come with me to the bedroom? We need to talk."

With a furrowed brow, you obeyed because the hand that held your chin ended up in one of your hands, pulling you as if he were a child wanting to show you something very important.

"Am I in trouble?" You joked as you watched him close the door behind you.

"Sit on the bed."

"Am I...?"

His brown eyes on you were enough for you to obey once again.

"Could you explain to me what the hell is this?" His hand in your hair made you turn your gaze away from the mirror you had in front, leaving the marks in plain sight.

You immediately understood who he was talking to.

Or whom.

"Oh, come on, hermano." Jake rolled his eyes in the mirror's reflection, his arms crossed over his chest. "Steven broke it first."

"False!" The mentioned objected after. It seemed like a competition of who could make Marc lose his patience first. "I would never do something like that."

"Check her hips if you don't believe me."

Raising an eyebrow, Marc released your hair.

"Stand up, sweetheart."

If there's one thing you've learned over time in this relationship, it's that it's not worth objecting when one or all three of them are arguing, especially when you don't even know what the problem is. You stood up slowly, wearing Steven's blue sweater that you slept in, which only covered half of your thighs.

He slowly lifted the edge of the fabric, his fingers brushing your thighs and causing a slight shiver. You could swear you heard him growl when he found the damn marks that fit perfectly with the size of his hands. Some of them were covered by your panties but they were pretty visible, already turning to a purple color.

“I-I didn't even notice those were there!”

“Why can Steven do it and I can't? That’s a damn injustice if you ask me.”

“Fortunately, Jake, I'm not asking you.” He rolled his eyes while you tried to imagine what the other two boys responded to him from the headspace. "On your knees."

The cold of the floor on your skin felt good and you had to look up to meet your boyfriend's chocolate gaze. You never had a problem following his orders.

“The problem here…” His fingers ran through your hair slowly, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. “They are forgetting who you belong to. Who do they think they are to mark my girl like this, huh?” He cooed, the gaze of the other two fixed on him.

Your hands went to the hem of his pants, and when he didn't object, you understood well what he wanted. A small smile spread across your lips as you freed him from his tight black jeans, as well as his underwear.

He wasn't completely hard yet until your tongue ran along his entire length from base to tip.

“I want you to show them who was your first, my love.” Your fingers, as if you were an expert, wrapped around his cock, giving it a squeeze before beginning a slow, up-and-down pace. “Who you think about every fucking time you cum.”

You couldn't see it, but in detail you imagined the way Jake was rolling his eyes.

“It's a punishment for all 3 of you, you understand, don't you, honey?” His eyes boring into you as you kissed all around his cock wetly. “What makes you believe you should allow yourself to be treated that way?”

You parted your lips, taking the head inside before starting to suck. That always gave him chills, the way you didn't rush.

“No-oh.” His fingers tangled in your hair, those soft caresses had stopped. One push of his hand and you had half of his erection inside your mouth. He groaned.

Although you enjoyed taking your time and savoring every inch of Marc, he seemed to be in a hurry, you thought that perhaps the clumsy and aggressive way in which he was directing your head movements was part of the supposed punishment.

Were you supposed to not enjoy that?

“Push deeper.” Jake's voice caught Marc's attention, who a few seconds ago had been distracted by the messy and sloppy way you were sucking him off. He could have sworn there was a point where the only sound in the room was your saliva every time he slid over your tongue.

Marc looked at the mirror with a frown.

“Push harder.” He repeated, looking up. “Steven always fucks her mouth until she cries, if you want to prove your point push harder. Right, Steven?"

The other boy received an elbow against his ribs that forced him to look up. It seems he was enchanted by watching the way your left cheek bulged against the pressure of the head of Marc's lenght against it.

Still distracted, he nodded quickly.

It was that what resulted in you suddenly feeling him push your head harder. The brush against your throat brought tears to your eyes and you heard your boyfriend grunt. He was never so rude.

You didn't complain, though.

You tried your best to relax the muscles in your throat around him, but you were so caught off guard that a couple of gags only did the opposite, feeling you squeeze him every few seconds until he guided your head back.

Saliva ran from your lips to your chin, some drops ending up on your neck. You broke the string of saliva that joined his cock to your mouth by licking your lips.

You sniffed, looking up before giving Marc a smile.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His fingers wrapped around himself so he could hit your tongue with his heavy member. You kept your tongue out, happy to receive it and hear the wet slapping. “Or does Steven do it better?”

Another movement of his hips was so abrupt that you felt your nose eventually collide with his lower abdomen, having to close your eyes as your tears ran down them. Still, you didn't give up, you didn't use your well-known "signal" to ask for some mercy.

Instead you moved your tongue slowly underneath, you only managed to graze his balls with the tip of it but it was enough to get a gasp from his throat. You held on for more seconds than you thought you were capable of before it was Marc himself who pushed you away.

It took you several seconds to even out your desperate breathing, you wiped your lips on the sleeve of Steven's sweater.

"Stand up." He ordered. His chest rising and falling rapidly. Jake's smirk on the other side of the mirror screamed at him that he knew. He knew Marc would finish stupidly quickly if he kept fucking your throat like that.

You swallowed hard before standing on shaky legs, the intense heat between your legs beginning to burn through your entire body, without receiving any kind of attention the only thing you could feel was the way your insides clenched around nothing.

"Turn around." Your cheeks took on a reddish color as you remembered the two pairs of eyes that were on you on the other side of the reflection. You slowly turned your back on him, your fingers gripping the wooden cabinet that held the huge mirror. “You better not close your eyes, I want you to look at them.”

Marc's hands took care of the job, pulling the hem of the sweater up to your waist and pulling your panties down to your ankles. You didn't need instructions to spread your legs and raise your ass for him.

He positioned himself behind your body, holding his cock for help. The tip separated your lips and you flinched when it brushed your swollen clit, it was just a couple of brushes as if he wanted to collect your juices on it in order to make penetration easier.

Although with you dripping and him full of your saliva, at this point it was just his pettiness and his desire to make you beg. You lifted your hips higher.

Marc looked down, his hand positioning itself exactly over Steven's finger marks and with a single movement you felt him slide inside you. Your legs trembled as you received him this deep and rough way, an action that you recognized as more typical of Jake.

“M-Marc, fuck, Marc.” You stammered as your body tried to get used to his size. No matter how many times you had done this, it was like your body insisted on giving him that death grip that drove him crazy.

"That's it." He caught her bottom lip between his teeth in a lousy attempt to silence her gasps. “Louder, baby, remind them who's fucking you.”

Somehow you felt like Jake and Steven's eyes burned into your skin. You couldn't look in the mirror, not while you were babbling Marc's name between moans, with that look that made it obvious how cockdrunk you were with just a couple of thrusts.

When Marc hit that sweet spot that made you vibrate from head to toe, your eyes closed automatically, your head falling downward.

"No." He growled, his hand rising to place it in your hair where he tangled his fingers. The sudden tug he gave to your locks made you snap your head up and let out a loud gasp, your eyes snapping open. "Look at them."

On the other side Jake was leaning slightly so he could be at your face level, analyzing every small expression of pleasure he saw in you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are dilated, and your lips are red from biting them so much.

Steven was too lost in his own thoughts to object anything, the truth is that he was enjoying this new angle he had to see his cock splitting you and making you whimper more than he would like.

“Tell them how good I'm making you feel, honey.” He cooed, his fingers giving your hair a harder tug to force you to keep your head up. “Remind them who was the first to break that tight little pussy.”

You stifled a moan, making your bottom lip bleed with a bite.

“Tell them.” He growled, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you feared your body was going to give up at any moment.

“I-It was you, Marc.” You whimpered in pleasure as his thrusts pushed your body forward, you were already on your tiptoes so as not to end up with your entire body against the furniture.

“Repeat it, I want them to listen to you.” His entire length remained still inside you, brushing against that spot that made you lose your mind. "Louder."

Your parted lips took in deep gasps of air and you had to swallow hard to recover your voice by moistening your throat a little.

“It’s you M-Marc.” He didn't give your hair a break, he was pulling with his fingers so hard that it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Marc! A-Ah, fuck. It’s you, it’s you, only you.”

Bold of you to assume that Jake wouldn't have that in mind the next time he had his turn with you.

“Fuck her harder.” Marc looked at the mirror when the opposing voice caught his attention. “Come on, she can take it.” A mocking smile appeared on his lips, only irritating Marc even more.

Still, he obeyed.

You could hear the slapping between your bodies every time he thrusted into you. Your legs were threatening to stop supporting your body weight as they began to shake, your entire body feeling small spasms as you got closer and closer to the end.

“Marc?” Steven's soft voice caught the attention of the other two. His pupils were dilated and there was an adorable blush on hid cheeks. "Touch her."

Marc grunted when he realized that this wasn't the punishment he'd originally thought, but who was he to say no to Steven? The hand that was holding your hip slowly slid between your legs, separating your pussy lips with his fingers and then pressing his thumb against your sensitive clit.

He immediately felt your little hole tighten around him.

“Circles.”

“I know how to touch her, Steven.” He growled in your ear, only reminding you of the pair who were probably enjoying the show. The pleasure you were experiencing was too much to rescue the few grams of shame you might have somewhere on your body.

Your nails scratched the wood of the furniture in front of you.

“Cum all over me, honey.” He managed to whisper between moans. Two more thrusts of his body snatching the air from your lungs. “I bet they’ll like it.”

And that was enough for the wave of pleasure to make your body tingle from head to toe, your walls milking Marc until he followed you immediately after, filling you with his warm, thick liquid, which he pushed deeper inside you with a couple more strokes.

For a few seconds the only thing you heard along with the ringing in your ears was Marc's heavy breathing. After a moment his fingers gripped your hips, drawing your attention.

He gave you one more thrust and you squealed, sensitive, overstimulated.

“Marc.” You complained, looking up at the mirror in front of you once more as you tried to catch your breath.

On the other side, Jake's smile greeted you, almost playful.

“Let's see which name you can shout the loudest, princesa.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: So many okay; body worship, HEAVY praise, multiple orgasms, oral (f,m receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, hella petnames, fingering, kinda marking too, oh and cockwarming, a lil bit of a jealousy thing going, vague mentions of injuries

Genre: fluff & smut

Summary: The idea of you going on a date makes your friend confess feelings you didn't know they had

***

Meeting Marc Spector was something you'd consider a total fluke. A mishap with his suit had him limping down the street hardly able to hold himself up. Against... probably your better judgment, you brought him to your apartment- patched him up, got him some food, and let him crash on your couch. He was gone before you woke up in the morning and you honestly expected never to see him again. A couple of weeks later though he popped by to say thank you and introduce himself, you told him he could stop by if he needed help again. You didn't think he'd take you up on the offer but you were fast friends as you became his only confidante. Apparently, the vigilante life is not conducive to friendships, especially when you share your life with another; Steven Grant.

It was a while before Marc told you about Steven and you liked to call him Marc's best kept secret, considering Steven doesn't even know about it. It took even longer for you to meet Steven. Another mishap with Marc's suit had him frantically banging on your balcony door one night. You pulled open the door and he'd practically fallen into your apartment.

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

"Jeez! I thought that stupid bird was meant to protect you Marc!" You crossed your arms.

"Help now, be mad later. Oh! And if I wake up and I'm not me, lie." He barely got the last bit out before he practically fell on you.

"Heavens above you still haven't told him the truth?" You groaned technically to yourself as you shoved a now unconscious Marc onto your couch. Even with him passed out you'd gotten more than enough practice patching him up that you had it so down that you were quick and efficient. He was out for quite some time afterwards, you even made dinner before he suddenly startled awake.

"Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing here?" The unfamiliar British accent immediately told you that night that Steven had woken up instead of Marc.

"Um- this is my apartment so that's where you are, I live here so that's what I'm doing here and my name is y/n. You're Steven right?"

"How did you know my name?" He'd looked at you suspiciously.

"I- I looked at your wallet for ID?" He does have his wallet on him so that lie was totally believable.

"Well why am I here?" 

That was the question you were dreading from the moment Marc passed out on you.

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

"I- I didn't see it happen. You were hurt when I got to you." You shrugged. It wasn't technically a lie. You didn't see Marc get hurt. The answer seemed to satisfy Steven at the time but maintaining separate friendships with Marc and Steven wasn't something you wanted to keep up long term. Hence, with some gentle nudging, Marc eventually revealed himself to Steven and you ended up having to help the duo navigate the new dynamic.

However, where you thought Steven was Marc's best kept secret; a new player had him beaten. A secret so well kept Marc didn't even know until after you did. And his name was Jake Lockley. Meeting him had actually happened intentionally on his end. Apparently tired of watching the back and forth between you and his alters he stepped in to meet you himself. You'll admit you and Marc toed the line pretty much since you met, flirting with each other but not obvious enough to change your dynamic, and once Steven got comfortable with you it was only too fun to tease him. So in came Jake; the hidden protector, questioning you and ultimately deciding you were safe for them to be around. He even trusted you enough to facilitate his introduction to the other two. Now you've got the whole trio you can call friends and they often tell you how instrumental they consider you in maintaining stability in their shared life. You really enjoy having them around most of the time even with how chaotic it can be covering for, patching up, and keeping track of their system.

Tonight, while you're finishing your makeup for a date, you hear a knock from the living room. You're not expecting anyone right now so when you leave your room and find Moonknight on your balcony you're not exactly surprised. You open the door and the suit disappears as he walks into your apartment.

"What're you all dressed up for?" Marc asks taking in your outfit.

"Hello to you too Marc." You roll your eyes.

"Hello. What're you all dressed up for?"

"I have a date tonight." You say with a shrug heading back to your room knowing Marc will follow you.

"A date? What date? You didn't tell me about any date."

"I don't have to tell you about dates."

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

"It's a first date Marc I'm not getting married. You're making it a much bigger deal than it is."

"It is a huge deal. You haven't been on a date since we met!"

"Thank you for pointing out that Marc yes this is my first date in a while. Did you come here for a reason? Doesn't that bird of yours have errands for you?"

"I always come here when I'm done with Khonshu's stuff. This is why it's a big deal you didn't tell me about this date. It throws off our routine!"

"Marc you coming here to eat my food after running around for skelo-bird is not set in stone."

"It is set in stone. If it wasn't we wouldn't do it every time."

"Well it's still early, so when I finish my date I'll text you and you can come back over and your routine will be fine."

"That's not the same."

"I dunno what to tell you sweetie, I have to leave, I'm meeting this guy in like 10 minutes."

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

"Come ooon I'm way more fun than whoever this random guy is anyway."

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

"Let me get this straight, you want me to cancel my first date in over a year because it's more important that we watch a movie while you eat leftovers? Call me crazy but I'd personally rank those a little differently."

"I want you to cancel your first date in over a year because I don't want you to go on a date."

"Okay I know we're close but I feel like that's crossing a line a little bit. That's not really up to you."

"Princessa, are you intentionally misunderstanding him?" Jake's sudden appearance only further confuses you.

"No Jake. I genuinely have no idea what the deal is here and at this rate, I'm going to be late so one of you better start talking straight."

"He's jealous. He doesn't want you going on a date with anyone that's not... us, really. None of us do."

"All of this is about a crush? Bring Marc back out here." You roll your eyes.

"Look I did not send Jake out here to speak for me!"

"You are such a dunce." You smack his chest lightly.

"What?!"

"You don't want me to go on this date because you three like me and you couldn't just say that?"

"I dunno I guess I just didn't want to risk what we've already got, as friends." He says sheepishly.

"Say the words."

"What?"

"Say exactly why you don't want me going on this date and I'll cancel."

"I don't want you to go on this date because I have feelings for you. Stay home. I can make it worth it in any way you ask."

"Any way that I ask?"

"I'll worship you like a god if you want me to."

"Won't that make that silly old bird of yours a little jealous?"

"Let him be if he is. All that matters is you not going on this date and me showing you my gratitude."

"Alright, I'll call and cancel the date."

"Don't bother. Who cares if he gets ghosted?"

"First of all, I'm nice so I care; secondly that's the shit that gets women stalked."

"Oh please, as if he'd ever be able to hurt you with us around." Marc scoffs.

"Okay, bodyguard. The call will take less than two minutes and you'll have my attention the rest of the night." You say grabbing your phone and stepping into the living room. You notice Marc following you as you call your date.

"Hello?" 

"Lewis! Hi, I'm sorry to do this so last minute but something has come up and I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner."

"Oh. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"

"Uh- thanks but I'll be fine! I just gotta take care of a thing and I didn't wanna leave you sitting there waiting."

"Yeah no, thanks for letting me know. We can reschedule."

"Sure! Soon as I get a handle on things I'll reach out to reschedule." You say, ignoring the look Marc gives you.

"Alright no problem. Good luck with your thing." Lewis says before hanging up.

"You aren't actually rescheduling with him, are you?" Marc asks you.

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

"You making this hard for me on purpose sweetheart?"

"Not at all. Just not sure how things are gonna go." You smile.

"How things are gonna go? I'm gonna show you that canceling that silly date was the right idea and that you don't need anyone other than us."

"Us? Steven and Jake are in on this too?"

"Of course they are."

"Well, that's a big promise Marc, how do you plan to show me all of that?"

"I'm going to start by kissing you. Is that okay?" Marc asks, pulling you towards him with an arm around your waist.

"Absolutely." You say draping your arms over his shoulder. Marc's free hand comes up behind your head as he kisses you hard. You gasp against his lips and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Without warning, Marc lifts you into his arms and easily carries you back to your room, not even phased when you pull away from the kiss to squeal. He tosses you onto your bed and climbs over you with a smile.

"You have no idea how crazy we are about you." Marc breathes out, trailing kisses down to your neck.

"Crazy about me? Is that right?" You ask, a moan punctuating your question as Marc latches onto a particularly sensitive spot to turn purple.

"Completely." He says softly, staring at you so intently you pull him towards you for another kiss to escape the look in his eyes. Marc pulls away to tug your already bunched up dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he looks you over. "Fucking hell you're even more gorgeous than I could've imagined." Marc groans.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about me naked darling?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought as you take the moment of silence on his end to pull his shirt over his head and drag your nails down his chest appreciatively.

"I plead the fifth." Marc groans and moves to litter your chest in more patches of red and purple as he reaches under you to unhook your bra. His hands cover your breasts as soon as they're free, palms kneading the flesh while fingers toy with nipples. The sudden onslaught of stimulation has little whimpers falling from your lips that Marc decides he can't get enough of. He pulls one of your nipples between his lips, sucking, nipping, and tonguing at it to test your reactions, discovering all the sounds you make from this alone. "You make such cute little noises." He chuckles switching from one nipple to the other, pulling all the same sounds from you. Eventually, Marc trails his kisses down your stomach, soft and slow, like he has all the time in the world. "So pretty." He whispers. He pulls your panties down your legs, kissing your thighs on the way down and back up. "I'm so going to enjoy this." Marc says before burying his head between your legs. He licks a hard stripe between your folds that makes you moan and his arms wrap around your thighs before you can even squirm. Marc's tongue swirls around your clit as he watches you, testing what pulls the best reaction from you. When a certain rhythm has your fingers tugging at his hair he settles into it, intent on making you cum like that. Whimpers and cries fall from your lips in quick succession as he sucks and laps at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You writhe and grind against him, although his grip on your thighs restricts your movement as he works you quickly towards an orgasm.

"Holy fuck Marc!" You groan, throwing your head back and pulling almost too hard at his curls but the man between your legs only lets out a pleased growl at the action. "Fuck I'm close." You pant out and Marc wraps his lips securely around your clit, sucking harshly until your legs tense and your orgasm crashes into you with a silent scream. Marc doesn't even let you fully ride out the high before his fingers slide into your opening. He curls the two digits just right and you can feel the pull in your abdomen when he brushes the spot inside you. Your back arches into him as he works you open with his fingers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. Your second orgasm hits you faster than the first your entire body twitching while you let out the prettiest whine Marc's ever heard.

"My goodness." Although the voice is muted in your pleasure fogged brain, you don't miss the accent in his words.

"Steven?!" You blink at him, chest still heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in the situation he's just been thrown into.

"Hi. I can't imagine Marc did this on purpose I-" Steven's words trail as his head snaps to the mirror hanging on your closet door. "He did this on purpose." Steven looks at you and then back at the mirror. "Why would you do that Marc?!" You pull his gaze back to you by grabbing his chin,

"Steven, calm down." You say.

"Clearly I've missed a lot because how did you two even end up like this?" Steven asks and your giggle at his confusion quickly turns into a whimper when the action makes you distinctly aware of his fingers still buried inside you. "My god, help me." Steven breathes out at the sound from your lips. "If this was your act of gratitude why am I here?!" Steven asks to the mirror and you suppose Marc told him how you, in his words, ended up like this. Steven makes a face at whatever Marc says next and then turns to you with a look you can only describe as curious. Before you can question it, his fingers inside you move tentatively, making you moan. He's less sure of himself than Marc had been but he watches intently as he slowly strokes your inner walls, enjoying the way you react to him. "You're absolutely breathtaking."

"And you, are simply adorable." You say bringing him down to kiss him. Steven is obviously much more nervous than Marc was and you take the lead in the kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips as you explore his mouth with your tongue. It seems your reactions feed his confidence as his fingers gain speed the longer you kiss him and soon you're moaning too much to actually do it properly.

"I love the sounds you make." Steven sighs. You pull his fingers from you before he can make you cum again and he pouts at you until you guide the fingers between your lips. You suck them clean, enjoying the way Steven takes a shaky breath at the action. You use one hand to undo his jeans and pull them down his legs, pulling his fingers out of his mouth for him to get up and shove them the rest of the way down with his boxers. You lean forward and take Steven into your mouth, swallowing him down as far as you can.

"Oh god." Steven groans and his eyes roll as he tosses his head back. You bob your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue as you go, enjoying the way he moans and shivers.

"I love the sounds you make too darling." You hum dragging your tongue along the vein that runs the underside length of his dick. Steven hisses and you wrap your lips around him again.

"Holy hell you're... really good at this." Steven's praise is breathy and stuttery. You take him all the way into your mouth, feeling him in the back of your throat. Rather suddenly, you feel his fingers in your hair tugging you off of him.

"Now, it was my understanding that we were meant to be showing you gratitude." Your ears perk up hearing the accent change.

"Jake, yeah so I've been told." You hum.

"And yet here you are pleasing Steven instead of him worshiping you." Jake's thumb rubs along your bottom lip.

"Steven is just so much fun to tease." You smile.

"Tease him later princessa, tonight is about you. How lucky we are to have you in our life. How much of an honor it is to kiss you, to touch you, to please you." Jake intentionally speaks slowly, staring at you intently.

"You are... very good with words." You muse.

"Have our actions not supported them?"

"Marc definitely, and Steven- before I got my hands on him, yes. You however haven't done anything but talk." You smirk at him.

"Tell me what you want from me and it's yours. Anything you ask." Jake says.

"In other circumstances that would be... a dangerous promise to make. But tonight, I just want you inside me. I want you to make me cum on your dick."

"With pleasure." Jake pushes you onto your back and tugs your legs to pull you towards him. He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you. Your back immediately arches at the fullness of Jake bottoming out and you can't help but moan. "Fuck you're so wet." He groans dropping his head to your shoulder for a moment. Jake sets a rhythm of sharp thrusts, deep but quick.

"Sh-shit Jake! Feels so good." You whine, dragging your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting and his thrusts pick up speed.

"God y/n you're perfect. So gorgeous. Taking this dick like you were made for us." Jake huffs out. One of his hands reaches between your bodies, finding your clit with ease. You squirm against his ministrations moaning as he drives into you repeatedly. "That's it princessa, moan for me, sounds so nice." He grits out, rubbing circles against your bundle of nerves. You grind against him, trying to bring your orgasm on quicker. "Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you let go around me. Please mi vida." Jake sweetly kisses you as he practically begs for your orgasm and a few thrusts later you're falling over the edge, nails digging into his back as he watches the way pleasure washes over your face. Once your eyes slowly peel open, Jake tightens his grip on your hips and changes the pace of his thrusts, slowing down now.

"You're gonna cum inside me aren't you Jake?" You ask with a pout specifically to get what you want.

"Mierda." Jake's eyes close for a moment. "Is that what you want princessa?"

"Yes Jake, please."

"I told you I'd give you whatever you ask me for." Jake shifts slightly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, they're sloppier now as he focuses on chasing his own release. "I'll pump you so fucking full, you'll be leaking. Fuck you'll look even prettier dripping like that."

"Please Jake, give it to me. Fill me up baby." You whine, grinding against him. His hips stutter and stop buried inside you and you the warmth of his orgasm inside you makes you moan. Before Jake can twist to lay beside you, you pull him onto you comfortable with the weight of him on you. "Don't move yet, let's just- lay like this for a bit, please." You say.

"Thank fuck you didn't go on that stupid date." Jake mutters and you giggle a little.

"Thank fuck you said something or I would've."

"Well, did we make it worth the stay?" "I'd say so." "Good. After a nap you can discuss the details, probably with Steven, he'll have the most to say." Jake mumbles into your neck.

"I'll have to talk to each of you ya know." You say.

"Sure but start with him. All I have to say is I think you're perfect, and we'd be lucky if you date us."

"You're not the only lucky ones." You say kissing the side of his face. Yeah. It might have been by pure chance that you crossed paths with Marc over a year ago but you're glad the rest of your decisions landed you here. Even if it's not the trajectory you saw that first interaction leading to, definitely worth it.

***

[whatthefishh]

C*ck Therapy

Therapist Steven Grant x patient!camgirl!female reader

Warnings: 18+, taboo relationship, therapist-patient sexual relations, c*ck warming, p in v, unprotected, mentions of cam girl activities, mentions of masturbation, mentions of oral (f rec), umm.. how else do I tag this. Brat taming Steven.

Just 1.8k words of horniness I’m sorry. Beta’d by the lovely @melodygatesauthor

“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s got you so angry, love,” he said while gripping your hips down onto his, not letting you roll them the way you longed to.

See, Steven used to be your therapist. He used to be your kind, respectful, and attentive therapist for about 4 months but that quickly changed when you decided to divulge your secondary income source – your premium content. Subscription based content. Adult modeling. Your camgirl side hustle. Whatever you wanted to call it.

He didn’t take the information as well as you were hoping, stuttering and blushing and not meeting your eyes, and you felt uncomfortable, thinking he was judging you for it. In actuality, Steven had found your profile a few weeks prior to your confession, and couldn’t help but palm himself to your entire content library. He’d never come harder than he had on the first night he stumbled upon one of your videos. It wasn’t long before he became addicted to the way you fell apart on camera.

He knew it was wrong, he knew it was probably against some rule about him being your therapist but he couldn’t help it. You were so intelligent in your sessions with him, always providing great insight on your own issues. You were one of his favourite patients. He was really happy with the progress you were making, and well… Steven couldn’t deny that you were beautiful. He was sure you were well aware of your beauty, so he never fancied himself someone you’d find attractive, especially considering the nature of your relationship. It was sort of forbidden. No, it was forbidden. The guilt didn’t stop him from subscribing to you though.

In your sessions, he never made you feel uncomfortable, he never gave away that he knew about your secret side gig, and he honestly wanted to help you. Steven was genuine in his career, he loved listening to you open up to him. He didn’t think his guilty addiction to you was hindering your growth until you mentioned your videos and apparently it showed on his face. He began stumbling over his words, trying desperately to explain that he wasn’t judging you. When you told him he was making a ‘cringe face’, he was forced to admit that he was actually cringing at himself, not at you. It was a painful few moments for you both.

Long story short, he couldn’t keep seeing you in his office, and decided some private sessions in his home were more appropriate. They usually started off with him bending you over the couch and then asking you how your day went as he righted your clothing, or kissing you messily the second you walked through the door, only to ravenously eat you out on the closest surface he could find. He was insatiable. Half your sessions were him just whining and whimpering about how delicious you were and how he couldn’t believe you were really letting him do this to you. Steven still let you talk, still listened to your issues and still tried to therapize you. It was just after he fucked your brains out.

You came over with an attitude today, irritated by external factors and you were looking forward to Steven fucking it out of your system. When you tried to initiate it with him, to get him to give you what you needed, he pulled back to look at you in concern. He offered to talk first, and you got angry and scoffed in his face, ripping yourself from his grasp. He conceded, telling you to take your frustrations out on him as he sat on the couch you usually laid down on in your sessions, patting his thighs in invitation. You were supposed to ride him, putting all your energy into it and watching his brows furrow as he watched his length disappear inside you again and again.

Today, he was hell-bent on you cockwarming him, claiming it was supposed to get you talking quicker but you were highly doubting the validity of his statement with the way his cock was twitching inside you every few minutes. Your slick was coating your thighs and the hairs at the base of his member, flowing more freely the longer he sat unmoving inside your hot channel. Infuriatingly, he held your hips down with his impossible strength, looking up at you with those sweet brown eyes of his as he repeated his question. Shit, what was the question?

“Hmmm?” you managed, after another unsuccessful attempt at rolling your hips.

“I said, what’s got you so angry today, love? Talk to me. I’ll make it worth it, I promise, but first you have to be good and tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, nudging your chin with his shapely nose.

You had inhale deeply, your breathlessness making it hard for you to speak. God, he really was so thick, wasn’t he? He was filling you up so perfectly, stretching you out at this angle and you had to close your eyes to even think about what you were going to say.

“That girl at work… the one I told you about who leaves all her shit for me to clean up after her shift–”

“Mhmm, keep talking, love,” the vibrations from his chest felt like an electric shock through your body, your back arching at the sensations.

“Ahhh, she-she made a mistake, and blamed me… and, and then I got reamed out by my stupid manager,” you were close to crying now, the anger subsiding slowly, and the feeling of being denied by Steven taking over.

“Ohh, sweetheart, s’not right, is it?” He brushed your hair back and rubbed your cheekbone with his thumb, and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm like a cat needing affection. “S’not your fault. Tell you what, maybe you should quit.”

“Maybe you should fuck me, come on, Steven, just–just make it go away, I need you,” you were whining pathetically, ready to let your fists land on his chest in a rage.

Steven tutted at you. He tutted, like you were a petulant child, like you were just having a tantrum, like a teacher gently disciplining a student, not like you were sitting on his cock, leaking all over him and the couch, staining the taupe suede material with your juices. Leaning forward to softly mouth at your neck, he whispers against it and lets his lips graze your skin.

“I wouldn’t be a good therapist if I didn’t let you talk about it first, would I? That’s not very ‘healing comes from within’ of me,” he laughed at the end of it, his hot breath burning you even further.

Oh, you hate him. You tightened your core when he laughed against you, the rumbling causing his cock to shift slightly and you let out a soft moan at the smallest amount of friction it granted you, and he unwillingly thrust upwards at the feeling. Oh, you knew how to get back at him.

Clenching around him again, you wait for his reaction as your lips touch the shell of his ear, whimpering, as he garbled out a choked out groan against your neck. Steven’s hips unwittingly thrust upwards again, knocking into your cervix just that small amount, enough to make you dig your nails into his shoulders where your hands were resting. You were both moaning now, and you think you can tease him like this until he finally gave in and fucked you from under you. You needed him to, therapy be damned.

Dragging your hands up into his hair, he shuddered when your nails scraped across his scalp. He licked his lips, the edge of his tongue grazing your neck before he pulled back to look into your eyes and the previous soft look he was giving you was gone, replaced with a heady look, eyelids low as his mouth was open and panting.

“No, but considering that you’re inside me right now, I’d say you’re halfway there,” you gasp as his hand shifts down to your ass, squeezing, fingers splayed wide and pulling at the flesh there.

You lean more into his chest, your breasts pressing into him now, his mouth sitting just so, dipping down to mouth at them through your top. Steven’s control was slowly slipping, his idea failing spectacularly as he pulled your hips to roll and grind on his. You squeezed your muscles around his thick and throbbing cock again, trying to entice him to pull out to the tip and buck up into you like you wished he would. You were gripping him so tight, and your slick was more than enough to make his movements smooth and yet Steven was holding back from giving you his all, his logic lost on you.

“Steven, please, I’m sorry for being short with you, I’m sorry, okay? Please just–”

You were cut off from your helpless begging when he decided he’d had enough, that you had suffered enough, that you learnt your lesson and that the anger you walked in with was gone, along with his restraint. Steven gripped your ass even tighter, his fingers pressing divots into your skin as he thrust up into you mercilessly, bouncing you on his length as you cried out for him.

His hands were squeezing you, keeping you wide open for him as he rendered you incoherent, pathetic moans and whines leaving you. With your mouth still close to his ear, your noises began spurring him on as he grunted with each pass of his cock into your hot cunt, desperate to reach his end. Your hands began bunching his blazer lapels, angry in the back of your head that he didn’t even take off his jacket when he sat you on his thick shaft. Your soft walls began fluttering around him, signaling that you were almost reaching your end, his relentless teasing having caught up with you now, hurtling you towards the edge quicker.

“Ohh, ffffuck, Steven I’m gonna–gonna come, yes,” you shouted, so close to your euphoria that you were desperate to reach. The way his cock was punching up into your cervix was just perfect, his smell overwhelming you, his hands squeezing you just right, everything was leading to this and you couldn’t help but whine when his thumb swiped at your clit once, twice–

You were coming hard.

His grunts and groans were muffled into your chest, his thrusts getting sloppy while he chased his own release, pulling your hips down to his so hard it almost hurt. Steven bucked his hips one final time before you felt the telltale pulsing inside of you, the warmth of his cum slowly trickling out from where you were still sheathed around him. He pulled back to look at it with brows raised, almost impressed at his own mess while still catching his breath.

“How are you feeling now, love? Still angry at me?”

“I wasn’t angry at you, Steven,” you sigh dazedly, shaking your head at him. “Silly man. But to answer your question, I’m feeling much better now that you’re done torturing me.”

[heartthrobin]

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

-

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

-

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

-

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[jayke0]

Sorry, Love

Summary: You and Steven had discussed the idea of somno, but never actually gotten round to doing it... until now.

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Rating: 18+ obvs, nsfw

Warnings/content: somno, desperate and pervy Steven, male masturbation, humping, mentions of using/being used, rubbing pussy with cock (idk what that's called), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie.

.................................

The idea of touching you in your sleep seemed somewhat alien to Steven. He couldn't grasp the thought that you'd want to be touched by him when you aren't even able to feel the pleasure yourself. However, the more he tossed the thought around in his head, the more excited he'd become with it. Of course, you explained the ins and outs of it to him (literally), and it's not like he's a novice at reading the signs from your body... hell, he's probably better at it than you on some occasions.

One night, after a considerable serving of vegan lasagna, you fall asleep on the couch with your head resting in Steven's lap, and that's when he's reminded of your conversation. His cock stirs under your head while he gently plays with your hair, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in hesitation. Carefully, his hand glides over his joggers and grips the outline of his cock to squeeze lightly and get himself hard; which isn't difficult. His other fingers trace your facial features, feather light touches contrasting with the grip he has around his buldge.

She's so pretty when she sleeps. He thinks to himself, a soft pant leaving his lips as he simultaneously runs his thumb over your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. Sliding his hand into his joggers, he pulls his cock out finally and gives himself a few harsh tugs. Your face is just centimetres away from his cock while he pumps his fist around himself, staring at your beautiful features. His thumb swipes over the tip again and that's when he lets out a soft moan of your name, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip in an attempt to not wake you with his noises.

It feels really good doing this, perversely good, he continues to think to himself, she has no bloody idea, not a clue in the world-

His hand starts moving faster, the intervals in which he teases the tip of his cock now becoming shorter.

I wanna cum all over her face- shit- I'm gonna cum on her.

His chest heaves, and just as quickly as he'd gotten hard, he cums over his hand and your face with strained moans, making sure to get it on your lips. The sight in itself would be enough to make him hard again, but he doesn't want to push his luck, or run the risk of freaking you out.

A few days later, he divulges what he did to your face, and much to his surprise (even after the discussion about it), you're not mad at him.

"Steven, i told you that it's ok, it's... hot" you say, chuckling a little bit as you finish your pancakes he'd lovingly made for you.

"God, are you sure? Please tell me if it made you uncomfortable, i mean yeah it was a good wank but i wouldn't want it to be at the expense of your comfor-"

"Steven! Shut up" you say as your hands land on his face, stroking his cheeks with your fingers which soothes him, "i like it, ok?"

"Right- yeah of course, sorry, Love." Steven presses his nose into the palm of your hand, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch.

"You can do more than that, too" you add and gently move your hands down his toned arms to his hands, which are still fidgetting in his lap "i wouldn't mind it if you wanted to touch me, y'know, in all the places you like." You bring his hands up to touch your chest while your eyes linger on his, the gesture making his body falter and his shoulders drop a little in submission.

"You know how to touch me, Steven, so do it, use me."

Those words make steven visibly shiver, you always know how to loosen him up and get him comfortable, and that's one of the things he loves the most about you.

Even so, after a week of waiting, Steven still hasn't taken the opportunity to indulge in his fantasies... even after multiple occasions where you've made yourself fall asleep before him with nothing but a baggy t-shirt on in hopes you'd wake up with his cock burried inside you.

As you get ready for bed and pull that same old baggy shirt on, you notice something is up with steven, almost like he's feeling on edge or ansty; but you know that look, the way his eyes rake over your body and his tongue laps at his lips, he wants you, and bad.

You take that as an opportunity as your tummy fills with butterflies; maybe if you leave him like this, he'll finally act on his impulses and fuck you awake, so that's exactly what you do. Walking right past him, you get into bed and snuggle under the sheets, though the way your body is already reacting with excitement makes it hard for you to drift off, but eventually you do.

Many thoughts roam around Steven's psyche, ranging from she wants this, she's told me she's ok with it, to oh god what if she doesn't though and i misinterpreted it. Despite his doubts, however, the urge has grown too strong, and once he carefully removes the covers from your body, he's reassured by the position you've chosen to fall asleep in.

With no underwear on and your right leg coming up to your belly, your ass is perfectly exposed to him, and he can see the way your slick glistens in the dim light of the moon. The sight makes his half hard cock twitch in his joggers, and slowly he crawls over to you, wrapping his whole body around you.

Now usually, that'd be the perfect position for steven to fall asleep in, because loves cuddling you more than anything in the world, but the way he can feel your ass pressing against his crotch makes that difficult for him. His breathing becomes laboured as he starts tentatively rolling his hips against you, the fabric rubbing against the tip of his cock in a way that he knows will stain them with his precum, but that's the last thing he cares about right now. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, and if you were awake you'd be able to feel his muscles constricting you in the best way, holding you in place while he uses you to get off.

His forehead rests on the back of your head, his fingers sliding over your skin and up to your chest where you cups one of your boobs; admittedly one of his favourite parts of your body. He circles your nipples with his index finger in the way that's been proven to work on you in the past, and even now, as your brain sleeps, your body pushes back on him, rocking your hips in time with his.

That gesture simply urges Steven on, and his worries soon melt away, leaving him with pure desire to use your body. His face burries in your neck before he starts talking quietly to himself... and maybe you, or at least your sleeping brain.

"Shit love, you have no idea how much i love this," he reaches down and takes his cock out of his joggers, sliding it between your thighs thanks to your arousal from just thinking about this scenario earlier. "Seems like you like it too... this what you wanted? Is this why you've been wearing nothing but this cute shirt?" He pants softly and his hips rock a little less haphazardly now, fucking your thighs like he does with your cunt. "God i wanna do this to you every night" he groans "i know how deep you sleep... wonder if you'd even wake up if i put it inside you.." he thinks outloud.

You stir a little, but not enough to wake, so Steven continues what he's doing and holds his cock to your hole "i wanna fuck you awake, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper as he pushes in carefully but surprisingly easily "bloody hell, you really do like this, don't you?"

He pulls out slowly and pauses for a second before thrusting back into you again...

..And that's when you wake up.

Steven's whole body freezes against you when you tilt your head towards him, fear gripping his nerves as if he'd been caught robbing a bank.

"Fucking hell baby, finally" you groan sleepily to him, the tone of your voice a mixture of lust and sleepiness. "Been waiting for you to fuck me awake all week, Steven." You gaze at him with passion while your hand wraps around his wrist "keep fucking me baby, please."

That's all Steven needs before he starts thrusting into you again, his hips setting a desperate and fast pace as if he'd been holding back just for you. "Been wanting to fuck you like this all week, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper "it's all I've been able to.. to think about." His groans are loud and breathy, so he buries his face in your neck in an attempt to hide it.

"You should've done it sooner-" your head rests back against his while moans fall from your own lips "I've touched myself thinking about this so many times baby" you add, which warrants a particularly loud moan from the man.

Sliding his hand down your tummy, he wiggles his fingers between your thighs to find that bundle of nerves, and when he does you buck your hips against his hand "fuck! Steven that's it- that's good.. shit you fuck me so well!-" Your grip becomes tighter on his wrist as your orgasm builds blindingly fast now; faster than you can tell him, but that's ok, he knows your body better than you.

"I can feel you, dove, please- ah- please cum for me, cum on my cock, darling-" it all comes out strained as steven holds back his own orgasm, his hips stuttering and holding on just long enough to feel you tighten around his cock. Your moans fill the room while your body convulses on him, his cock still mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm till you're shaking.

" 'm gonna cum love- shit!" Steven fills you with his arousal, your contracting cunt milking him fucking dry until he's twitching and whimpering with overstimulation.

You both stay still for a long time, calming down from your collective orgasms, and part of you wishes that you could just go back to sleep in his arms now.

Steven's the first to break the comfortable silence. "That really was great, darling" he mumbles softly with a yawn "are you ok?" He kisses your cheek and you turn to face him with a massive grin "more than ok, baby" you reply.

"Let's do that more often."

.

Tagging people: @red-hydra @steven-grants-world @automnepoet @the-king-87 @lokisremainingsanity @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[eyelessfaces]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

steven grant x reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤: formal wear

warnings: dry humping, cumming in pants

word count: 1k

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

It's strange, the way that you feel when he comes out of the bathroom, suit so neat and curls slicked back, the faint smell of aftershave stilling in the air.

It makes your heart race and skip a beat at the same time, it makes your stomach flutter, and you see his cheeks turning a bright shade of red under your gaze.

"What? I look stupid don't I" he chuckles looking down at himself, adjusting the left sleeve of his jacket.

"Stupid?" you repeat, a scoff escaping your lips. "Steven you–" you take a step closer to him, a hand coming to cup his cheek, making him look back up at you. "You look so handsome."

A flattered smile grows over his face, and he thanks you quietly, almost as if he didn’t believe the compliment.

“Fuck I can’t let you go like that, everyone is gonna want you” you laugh looking up and down at him again, adjusting his shirt collar.

The museum had organized some sort of gala, a charity event with people in powerful positions. It was the best occasion for Steven to make a good impression on people that had more power than Donna. 

He chuckles before speaking. “It’s a bunch of old people and… Donna. I don’t think you’ll have any competition, love”

“You never know” you shrug playfully, and he scoffs at the stupidity of your words as he walks to the couch.

“Are you gonna start getting ready soon? We still have time but I’d like to arrive there as soon as it starts” he explains as he sits down. 

“Yeah don't worry I'll get to that” you smirk as you join him to the couch, straddling his lap. His hands quickly settle at your hips, and he’s now the one to look you up and down. 

It’s cute, the way he still blushes and looks up at you with big doe eyes just the way he did the first time you ever did that.

“I mean it, when I say you look handsome” you nod.

“I know you do” he smiles sheepishly.

“And you know I never lie to you, right?”

He hums in approval. 

“Then you should believe me when I say it” you declare as you lean down to capture his lips in a kiss, one of his hands leaving your hip to come and rest at the back of your head. 

He shifts in place to get in a more comfortable position, and your mouth opens in a moan when his thigh accidentally rubs against your crotch.

“Oh” he scoffs as he pulls away, looking down at your crotch, a sly smirk over his face. “Now that’s interesting innit?” he teases, and you’re the one to blush now. “Should I–” he moves his thigh so it can brush against you again, and he laughs when you whine at the fiction.

“Fuck Steven, don’t be a tease” you pant as your forehead presses against his, looking down at your crotch. It’s quick, the way your body starts to get overwhelmed with lust, and it’s emphasized when both of his hands settle back onto your hips to ground you back onto his thigh.

“C’mon, work for it” he tilts his head to the side, and even though it’s not an order you interpret it as such, you have to when he looks up at you through his lashes with lustful yet soft eyes. 

Your head tucks into the crook of his neck when you start to slowly grind back and forth on his thigh, the pressure feeling just right on your clit. Your breath feels hot against his skin, and though it feels pleasant, he wants to see your eyes, the way your face contorts in pleasure.

“Don’t hide, I want to see that sweet face of yours”

You oblige, your hands resting against the back of the couch, caging around his face. He pulls you towards his face to kiss you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth this time. He takes his time to explore your mouth as your hips sensually roll against him, and the small whines you pour into his mouth can’t help but make his slacks feel tighter.

When you pull away your faces still remain close, your pants mixing with his warm breath as he looks down at where you’re moving. You curse under your breath when he lifts up his thigh just a little bit so it can press closer against you, making him bite down on his lip.

His hands guide you back and forth, the friction of all the layers of clothes against your needy clit drawing small, sweet noises from you. “That’s right love” he murmurs as he looks up at your eyes, mesmerized by how much you seemed to enjoy this.

“Wait– just–” you shift and position yourself to grind against his crotch, his head hitting the back of the couch at the friction against his hard-on.

“Oh bollocks” he huffs out, a small chuckle leaving his mouth at the same time.

"Yeah, right," you grin, calculating the rolling of your hips so you can grind exactly where he needs you to.

The friction is maddening, especially when you can feel him twitch in his pants underneath you. Your head falls back with a whine, your heart racing faster by seconds.

“Oh– you close darling?” you nod hastily, eyes shut tight. It only takes a few back and forth movements before your mouth gapes in a silent cry, waves of relief washing over you as you keep grinding against Steven so he can get his own release.

It doesn’t take long either; not with the way he squirms and bucks up into you, chasing after you for more. He bites down on his bottom lip and whines before–

"Oh fuck love I'm gonna– Oh shit," his head falls back again, exposing his perfume sprayed neck as he spills inside his pants with a small grunt. 

You kiss his cheek before you leave his lap, sitting next to him.

“Bloody hell I have to change now” he chuckles as a hand covers his eyes, a small laugh slipping from his mouth. “But it was worth it”

—

as always please reblog and tell me your thoughts it helps a lot!!

moon knight taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @wibblywobblytimesindeed @whatthefishh @grxywindd @campingwiththecharmings @bubuslutty @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @weasleybuns @luxisluxurious @himesuedi @daisydark @violet-19999 @stvnnie

+ @flightlessangelwings

[thesecretwriter]

how each moon boy would react to an argument with you (sfw) – part 1.  

summary: what the title says!

warning: angsty angst.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: I’m feeling angsty lately, so here you gooo! ALSO, there’s more context to the situation of these headcanons, but they’ll be revealed in part 2. So don’t go hating on the moon boys just yet.

minors/ageless blogs dni.

Masterlists

part 2

Steven Grant:

“Are you really gonna bring this up now?”

His tone had you looking at him as if he grew another head.

“When else would be a good time to bring this up, hmm? Because I think now is the most appropriate time,”

Steven rolled his eyes as he took off his jacket and sat on the couch facing you.

He had come home from significantly late with no explanation. You found out through social media that he went to an event celebrating Layla without informing you.

“Its late and I’m tired,” he said as he rubbed his face and sighed heavily.

Oh, he is tired?

“You don’t think I’m tired? I understand you have a past with Layla, but the way you go about doing things is exhausting me. All you ever do is talk about her. Everything is Layla this and Layla that,”

You explain to him out of frustration.

“She was right about you,” he says with a hint of sass.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked with furrowed brows.

“I mean that maybe Layla was right about you being controlling. Why do you think I never told you where I’m going. You would’ve tagged along and dampened the mood.

Wow, wow. So, Layla and he talk about you.

“I can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth. If you have an issue with the way I am then you should address it to me. Not go and talk to your EX-WIFE about it,” your voice had increased towards the end as you glared at him.

“Its not my problem if you’re insecure,” he said with a shrug.

Each word from him added more cracks to your already breaking heart.

You shook your head at him wordlessly and began to look for your bag and jacket around his apartment.

He sat upright on the couch and watched you with confused furrowed brows.

“What’re you doing?”

Once you gathered your things, you walked towards the door with him now trailing behind you.

“I asked you a question,” he said firmer.

You looked at him with unshed tears and saw his expression soften.

“Leaving,” was all you said before unlocking the door and walking away from him.

Steven cursed under his breath and walked after you.

“Y/n, its late. Stop being ridiculous,”

That ticked your off even further. You abruptly turn around to face him.

“I don’t expect you to be concerned about me anymore. Go ahead and worry about your precious Layla and her thoughts on our relationship,”

You left him standing their speechless as you exited his apartment building. Steven was left feeling an ache in his chest and the weight of his actions and words.

Marc Spector:

“Look at the state of you,”

Were the first words Marc heard upon returning to the apartment. He had been gone for days and you had no way of contacting him.

“Y/n, please. I just want silence,” he said tiredly and sat lethargically on the bed.

“You can’t expect me to not be panicked when you come home with a gunshot wound. Did you even go to a hospital?” you ask in disbelief.

“I can take care of these things on my own,” he groaned and moved to face you.

“Marc, I can’t keep seeing you like this,” you admit to him.

Each time he left that door you would say a silent prayer to ensure he would come back to you.

“You knew what this relationship was going to be like-“

“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to be coming home like this,” you motion to his form.

Marc was growing annoyed.

“This is my life y/n, what do you want me to do?”

Your eyes searched his tired ones as he spoke.

“Exactly Marc, this is your life. I want you to take care of it,”

He scoffed at your words.

“I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life,” he said bitterly.

“That’s not what I’m-“

“Save it, okay? I already deal with enough when it comes to Khonshu. I don’t want to deal with you as well,”

“Deal with me? What? Marc, what have I ever done to make you feel like this? Me being worried about whether your alive or not upsets you?” you asked a string of questions as endless thoughts ran through your mind.

“Just go,” is all he said as he turned his back to you and laid on the bed.

You watch his form, waiting for him to take back his words, apologise… do something – but he just lays there.

You nod to yourself and gather your belongings to leave. It was well into the night and significantly late, but you did as he said and walked out that front door.

He laid in bed with his thoughts, thinking whether pushing you away was the right choice.

Jake Lockley:

You walked into the bar to see him stood rather close to an unknown woman.

With anger running through your veins, you walk up to him and see his eyes slightly widen when he sees your approaching him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked with a monotone.

“I’ve been waiting for you at home for the passed 3 hours,” you said as calmly as you could.

The woman standing close to him looked surprised at your words but made no move to walk away from the obvious situation.

“You should’ve kept waiting,” he said uninterested as he took a sip from his drink.

You watch him with narrowed eyes as he looked back to you.

“Is this how its going to be? You’re going to act like a total stranger in public and my boyfriend in private?” you asked feeling hurt.

He hummed at your words and sat up straight in his seat at the bar.

“You’re clingy,” was all he said, knowing that those words would hit you harder than anything else.

Throughout your life, you always had someone to be around. Your parents, siblings, friends and now in a foreign country you found solace with Jake spent every waking moment with him when you could. It was normal for you, and he didn’t seem to mind it.

“Clingy?” you asked as you choked back tears.

Jake clenched his jaw slightly before relaxing and putting his arm around the shoulders of the woman next to him.

“You heard me,” he said with a chuckle.

You took in a deep breath to compose yourself. Clearly you were not wanted nor needed here.

“Okay, if that’s what you think. You can have all the space you want from now on,” you said and turned to walk away.

“Is she actually you girlfriend?” asked the unnamed woman.

“One of many, hermosa,” he said under his breath.

[extraordinari1y-ordinary-writer]

A Night to Remember

Pairing: Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Summary: It started with a movie.

Content Warning: NSFW; p in v sex; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); Marc giving our boy some tips 😏; vaginal fingering; multiple orgasms; creampie; language; fluff, maybe; Steven and Marc are warnings; kinda rough sex?; Marc kinda fronts for a bit…to help Steven out; really bad ending 😂; whatever else I failed to mention

Word Count: 1,670

Note: Was this requested? No! This was a suggestion from @steven-grants-world in response to my post. I hope you guys like it! I'll come back here and there to make some edits where it's necessary. Any gifs or pictures I use are not mine.

Happy Valentine's Day — if you celebrate it.

Gentle reminder that I am always open for feedback! 💕

NSFW (18+)

Your lips were soft against his, moving with a familiarity that fogged his mind. One of his hands cradled your face, the warmth of your skin seeping into his own. His other hand rested at your hip, thumb stroking your clothed skin. The two of you had been watching a movie, sharing popcorn and the occasional shy touches as time ticked on. It wasn't until the halfway mark that Steven felt brave enough to initiate a kiss. The second you moaned against his lips, he knew he was a goner. The soft warmth of your skin, how your lips moved perfectly against Steven's – how could he not get lost in it?

Your scent clouded his mind, flooding his senses. And the soft warmth of your lips – gods, he was in heaven! You were so close, body melting against him the longer you two kissed. You nudged your nose against Steven's, nipping his bottom lip. He gasped at the sensation, your tongue moving past his lips, deepening the kiss. Steven whimpered, and you moaned; he tasted delicious. Your fingers tugged at his messy curls as you melted further into him. Your tongue explored his mouth for a moment longer before you pulled away. Your chest heaved for air, resting your forehead against Steven's.

The poor gift shopist was a gasping mess. His cheeks were burning, his mind hazy and his eyes clouded from the make-out session. You blinked at the man before you, both hands cradling his face gently. Steven's focus flickered from your eyes to your swollen lips. He couldn't stop himself from kissing you again, devouring your mouth with his. Your lips moved together perfectly; a whimper escaped you. Steven felt something stir in him – knowing he could get that kind of sound out of you sparked a pleasurable sensation deep within him.

Do what she did, a voice stated. Steven's brows furrowed, use your tongue. She'll love it.

Steven paused for a moment. You whined at the loss. Letting out a heavy breath, Steven mumbled an apology and resumed the kiss. It was heavy and deep, filled with need and building up with lust.

Steven, do it. Or, at the very least, kiss down her neck. There was that voice again. It sounded almost like –

Marc! he snapped. Embarrassment flooded the gift shopist. Was Marc watching them? Sure, it was just a make-out session; but still… he had your integrity to think of.

Have you been watchin' this whole time? Steven pressed. An annoyed lilt decorated his words.

It's kinda hard not to.

Bloody hell, Steven whined. Can't I just have one night–

Complain all you want, Marc interrupted, sounding equally as annoyed, but I'm trying to help.

You nipped at Steven's bottom lip again. Only this time you weren't looking to be in his mouth; you wanted more from him.

Just trust me on this, okay? As much as it embarrassed him, Steven was curious. He wasn't as experienced with women as the mercenary was. You were the first semi-serious relationship Steven had been in. He didn't want to mess it up. When he didn't argue, Marc took that as a sign to continue. Okay, he started, kiss down her neck.

Steven kissed along your jaw and down the soft skin of your neck. He gave the occasional nip and suckle, listening eagerly to your whimpers and whines. Steven shifted where he sat on the sofa, hoping to accommodate the pleasurable discomfort he was beginning to feel in his groin.

You're doing great, Marc encouraged, keep goin' at it, until you–

Steven nipped at one part of your neck. You moaned, melting into his body. One hand gripped the back of his head, pushing him further into your neck.

"Fuck," you gasped. "Do that again!"

Steven did just that. He nibbled and suckled and kissed that spot while you squirmed against him. The sounds you made only added to his growing arousal. Your other hand found one of his; you carefully guided his hand to your chest. When you felt his hand cup your breast, you let out a breathy whine. Steven groped her breast through her shirt; relishing in the feel of her soft flesh.

Take her shirt off, Marc ordered. His voice sounded husky. Steven hesitated. Look at her, man, she wants you to touch her.

Steven pulled back and looked at you. Your face was flushed, eyes glazed over and lips swollen. He peered at his hand, still groping your breast. He moved his hands to the hem of your shirt and you gasped. With more encouragement from Marc, Steven tugged your shirt off. You were wearing a black bra underneath; he gulped. Biting your bottom lip, you maneuvered your arms to unclasp your garment. The straps fell down your arms until your chest was exposed to him. Steven failed to bite back a groan. Shifting your hips, you tugged your pants down until you were left in nothing but your panties.

Fuck, Marc hissed. Steven was panting, watching as you climbed onto his lap with your arms draped over his shoulders. Marc moved Steven's hands so they gripped your waist, thumbs stroking your sides. Steven leaned forward, pressing kisses to your breasts. He took your nipples into his mouth and suckled. He alternated between each breast, suckling on your nipples and leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on the soft skin of your mounds.

"Oh fuck," you groaned. You started grinding your hips against his; an involuntary reaction. Steven could feel your wetness coating your panties. His erection was straining against the confines of his pants.

Lay her down. Marc was definitely turned on. And start taking your clothes off. Let her see you.

Steven moved so you were lying on your back on his couch. He removed his lips from your chest to take his sweater off. You sighed dreamily when you saw his bare chest.

"So beautiful," you hummed.

Steven hovered over you, planting a sloppy kiss to your lips. "You're the only one here who's beautiful," he mumbled against your lips. "So breathtaking."

His hand moved to your panty covered heat. Your panties were soaked. You whined into the kiss, your legs spreading wider.

That's it, Marc encouraged. Feel how wet she is – she needs to come, Steven. You think you can do it?

"Gonna make you come," Steven groaned. You practically sobbed. He teased your covered core for a second longer before he stuffed his hand down your panties. His fingers rubbed along your slit. Your juices coated his hand before pushing his index finger in. You moaned his name. His finger thrust and curled in you, testing the waters. There was still that uncertainty on Steven's end, knowing this would be his first intimate moment with someone. What if he didn't please you in the way you wanted? Would you still be attracted to him? Would you still like to be with him? Steven got so caught up in his anxieties he didn't catch on to Marc's impatience until it was too late.

Marc fronted before Steven had time to react. He was breathing heavily, looking at you in the way a predator looked at prey. He shoved two other fingers in and started pumping. You cried and moaned, grinding your hips against his hand. When his thumb started working on your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves, you started chanting Steven's name. The gift shopist watched as you submitted yourself to Marc – and him – and the pleasure. He watched as Marc worked to undo his pants and boxers, his erection breaking free and slapping against his stomach.

"Fuck me," you chanted. "Keep going – ah! – just like that! I-I’m gonna – fuck!"

"Just like that," Marc hissed. He worked your cunt even harder, feeling your drenched heart clenching around him. "Fuck, just like that–"

You came with a high-pitched moan. You gushed around Marc's hand, arousal dripping from his fingers. He kept pumping, keeping the orgasm going for as long as he could.

You gonna fuck her good? Marc challenged. He was drowning in his lust. Good girls like her get fucked nice and rough. Or do I have to show you how it's done?

You were looking at him so nicely, all spent and soaked. Your legs were spread, eager for his cock to fill you.

Marc heard Steven whimper. The mercenary looked down at you again. You were begging at that point, desperate and needy. Steven used that opportunity to front, stuffing his hardened length inside you. You let out a moan. He snapped his hips, holding you down. He watched your breasts bounce with each thrust, the way your eyes rolled in pleasure. His cock was hitting that one spot, the one that made your toes curl and brain short circuit.

Just like that, Marc panted. Oh fuck – just like that! So good, such a good slut!

You felt so good around him; so tight and wet.

"Steven," you cried. You chanted his name as your second orgasm built. Steven felt his fast approaching. His pace became sloppier, hips slapping against you until you both reached your highs. You kept chanting Steven's name, ropes of thick come coating your walls. Steven was a whimpering mess, the feel of you clenching around him only prolonging his release.

When your highs subsided, the two of you took a moment to catch your breath. Steven looked at you; your cheeks and chest red, eyes still hazy. You looked absolutely wrecked, and he couldn't imagine you looking anymore gorgeous.

When your gaze met with Steven's, you gave a small smile. "Maybe we could finish the movie another time," you joked. Steven chuckled.

"How about tomorrow?" he offered. Your smile widened. "You spend the night here and I make breakfast in the morning. We can do whatever you want after."

"That sounds amazing." You leaned up and kissed him.

Steven could practically feel Marc smirking. He'd have to have a few words with the mercenary…

…after begrudgingly thanking him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @staria9100 @radcollectivesoul @cuddlefishextrodinaire @ramielll @lelialynn @identity2212 @whiminiferous @gracescor3 @winterslove1917 @hailycheyenne @dp-marvel94 @queerponcho @mysterystrawberrynigt

[foreverinadais]

One Call: m.s , j.l , s.g

Summary:  Marc, Jake and Steven, your ex’s, ran into trouble and, as a result, are thrown into jail. At a loss, they ( begrudgingly ) use their only call on you in hopes you will bail them out. 

Pairings: ex!marc spector x reader , ex!jake lockley x reader , ex!steven grant x reader

Warnings: angst (!!!), they’re all readers ex’s, cussing, fluff, forced proximity, tension, jake being a bit of an asshole, *steven being sad* , kinda unhappy ending but there will be another part, this is part of the ex! moon boys x reader series but can be read stand alone, unrequited requited feelings, not being over your ex and vice versa. 

Word Count: 5.8 k

the ex! series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

You should’ve known it was them the moment your phone started ringing. You had awoken with a start, heart pounding out of your chest at the loud intrusion to your sleep. It took you a brief moment to register what the sound was, the thick layer of sleep still hovering in your mind. But then, the familiarity of the ringtone settled into your brain.

You hardly registered the time- 03:27am- before picking up your phone.

Unknown Number.

The words made you hesitate. But only briefly, for then you were answering. “Hello?” Your voice was croaky from just waking up, and you coughed slightly. There was a small silence. You tried again.

“Hi.” Your heart skipped a beat before dropping through your stomach completely. You recognised the voice immediately.

“M-Marc? Why…” You tried to find the right words to describe this moment; why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is? What the fuck is wrong with you? Instead, you settled with, “Are you okay?” A sigh followed from the other end of the call, and you could just imagine him, eyebrows creased, eyes shut in whatever it was that was silently bothering him.

“Look, ‘m fine, just- need’ya to do something for me.” A favour? You hadn’t seen him in at least two months, the last time being in a grocery store. It had taken you weeks to get the interaction out of your head. Annoyance entered your mind, but you quickly pushed it away.

“What is it?” There was another silence, prompting you to now sigh.

“We’re in trouble.” You flinched, swinging your legs out of bed, heart accelerating.

“Trouble? What kind of trouble? Have you-”

“We aren’t in danger, it’s fine, just…” He seemed to hesitate on his next words, and you were tempted to push him, to make him spit it out so you could settle the thoughts racing through your mind. “We’re in jail.” He grumbled, and you realised the hesitancy was embarrassment.

“Jail?! Why? I mean, how?”

“Don’t have time for questions, okay? Can you just come get us?” It seemed as though he had to be prompted before he added a quiet, “Please?”

You huffed, getting out of bed and slipping off your pyjama shorts. “Fine. Where are you?” He began listing all the information you needed, and you quickly scribbled it down on the back of one of your friend’s wedding invitations. “Okay,” you muttered, finishing putting on your clothes and slipping on some shoes, “ ‘m on my way.”

“Right.” He finished hastily, hanging up. You scoffed, almost expecting something else, at least a ‘thank you’. But you reminded yourself that this was just a favour. That you were the last and only option he had to call. You pushed away the feelings that he was using you. You cant be used if you aren’t wanted in the first place.

You hurried out to your car, ensuring you had all you needed before you began the drive to you ex’s.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Marc Spector? He got here tonight.”

“And what is your relation to Mr Spector?” You hesitated, spluttering on your words slightly before settling on,

“A friend.” The woman at the desk raised an eyebrow, taking you in before sighing.

“Sign these forms and then take a seat. Your friend will be out shortly.” You smiled awkwardly, picking up the papers and muttering your thanks.

In the rush and the confusion, you had forgotten what picking up Marc entailed. You would be seeing him again. His hair, his face, his eyes. You would be reminded of his smell and his voice and his lips. It had been too long, too hard getting over them. It was your own personal purgatory.

You could hardly remember the lilt in Steven’s voice when he was excitedly telling you about the book he was reading. Or Jake’s stupid jokes, sat in the back of his cab in the early hours of the morning. Or Marc-

You jumped when you heard a small cough in an attempt to pull your attention. You noticed the boots first, and it only took you a moment to avert your gaze upwards. His eyes were so familiar yet so cold. You felt as though you had been pulled under water, had lost your breath for a moment and were fighting to surface.

You took in every detail of his face. Some were familiar; the crease between his eyebrows, the slight downturn of his lips, the small scar on the side of his face. Yet, some things were new. Particularly, the bruise covering his left eye, purpling angrily, and the freshly busted lip. You winced, resisting the urge to reach over and smooth your fingers over his injuries until they hurt less.

“You are free to go. You’re lucky your ‘friend’ bailed you out. Could’ve been a lot worse for you tonight, Mr Spector.” You noticed Marc grit his teeth, biting back the words he truly wanted to say. You were relived when he just nodded. He was out of the door before you could talk. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ to the receptionist before hastily following after him.

“Hey, Marc!” You called, and you couldn’t ignore how unfamiliar his name felt on your tongue. You pushed down the sourness rising in your throat as you could his name again. Marc stopped abruptly, and you noticed his body moving in a sigh. His head cocked to the side slightly as if he were hiding from you.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you want a ride home?”

“I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll drop you off, I know the way.” The reminder of that fact pained you both, but neither of you showed it. Marc cleared his throat, turning to face you now, but he still averted his gaze.

“Don’t wanna bother you anymore than I already have.”

“We’re past the point of that. Look, it’s fine, I insist.” You could see the dialogue behind Marc’s eyes, the debating and reasoning, before he settled with a small nod and an, ‘Okay.’

The small space of your car left little space between the two of you. You tried to ignore how good he smelt, how nice he looked, even after whatever he had been through tonight. You subtly cracked the window down, just to feel as though you weren’t drowning in him.

Silence settled as you began to drive. It wasn’t exactly awkward, more… uncomfortable. As if you were both about to talk, or scream, or cry at the exact same moment. Marc was set on staring out the window, every now and then his gaze shifting to the rearview mirror, and you could just imagine Steven or Jake’s expression looking back.

You wanted to ask about them. Despite it being a long time since seeing Marc, it had been even longer since seeing the other two. Fuck, your heart ached thinking how close they were to you, yet so far. Marc, too. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to release everything in your mind overcame you. You couldn’t stay silent, but you didn’t quite know what you wanted to say.

“So…” you started, slowing down as you approached a red light, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Good start. You peeked over at him, but all you saw was his reflection in the window, blurred by the street lights and stars.

“Your face looks pretty bad. I mean, shit, not your whole face, just the bruise.” You didn’t miss the way his lip twitched up as if edging into his signature smirk, but quickly fell again, as if he was reminding himself of the situation.

“ ‘s fine.”

“That’s it?” You wondered aloud, moving as the light changed to green. “Look, I don’t mean to pry, I just, prison is a big deal, Marc. I’m…” You hesitated, hearing the implications of your next words, “worried about you.”

Marc tutted, and you worried you pushed him too far. He was stubborn, after all. “Don’t gotta worry about me anymore, okay? It’s fine, just ran into some trouble after a mission.”

You ignored the way your heart wept at his beginning statement, deciding to see how much you could find out. “After? What, someone sent some bodyguards on you or something?” You noticed his silence, the way his eyes averted down to his lap, and worry filled you once more. “Were you Moon Knight? Or was it you?” The thought of him fighting without his superhero alias inserted a sense of fear into you.

Marc sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and you noticed how pained he looked. “It was Steven.” Oh. Steven? Sweet Steven? You knew he could fight; you’d heard his stories of fighting Harrow and various other things. He was perfectly able. Yet, somehow, you couldn’t picture him fighting. Without the suit, without his alters.

You realised why Marc had been so closed off.

“What happened?” Your voice was quiet, strained.

“Just got back from a mission. It was…” He trailed off, and the sigh told you everything you needed to know. “Steven was fronting, and he was so frustrated. Neither of us could calm him down. We were nearly home but we heard shouting. Screaming. This woman was inside her house as her asshole of a husband was banging on the door. We told Steven not too do anything stupid, to just summon the suit or call the cops, cause he was in such a bad place, y’know?”

You did know, nodding, trying to focus on the empty roads and the story.

“But Steven wanted to help, like he always does. Couldn’t get control of the body as he stormed over. The guy hit him,” He motioned to the bruise, and you winced, “Twice. And then Steven was just… fuck, he was goin’ crazy. Probably would’ve killed the bastard if some drunk guy on the street didn’t pull him off.” Marc’s voice had gotten slightly strained, and you could only imagine the turmoil he would’ve been through, how helpless he would’ve felt. How helpless they all would’ve been.

“B-But… why did you get put in jail?” You hardly had to ask. You knew Marc would do anything, anything, to protect him. But you didn’t know what to else to say.

“Steven snapped out of it. Let me front. I couldn’t let it be under his name, ya know? He has his job; he has a life outside of this shit… It doesn’t matter for me.”

You wanted to say something. You wanted to tell him he was a good person. You wanted to say he did have a life. You wanted to ask to talk to Steven. But then Marc was speaking again.

“The woman, she was grateful, you know, turns out her husband is an abusive piece of shit. But when we were put into the car, I caught sight of the window. There was a kid. Crying. Didn’t know if his dad was dead or what. Steven probably saved the kid’s life, but he doesn’t know that. Steven went after that, can’t feel him or speak to him up there, just… nothing.”

You were at a loss for words. You could feel the pain radiating off of Marc and it made you ache to hold him in your arms and whisper terms of endearments. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what you were apologising for, or who you were apologising too. There was so much you wanted to say, but so little ways you could say it.

“Don’t be. He’ll be back. Probably when this bruise is healed, bastard’ll probably avoid havin’ to feel it.” You forced a smile at Marc’s attempt at a joke. But it was all fake. You could read him like a book, even if you had finished the last chapter a while ago. But it didn’t take a genius to see how much he was harbouring.

“Marc… why did you call me?” You didn’t want him to think you were angry; you weren’t. In fact, you were relieved it was you and not anyone else. But you were curious. Out of everyone, why you?

“Your numbers the only one I- we know.” He muttered, and whilst it made sense, you felt a pang of sadness. There was nothing attached to their choice. Nothing present, anyway. It was a convenience.

“I see.”

“Look, I’m sorry I was such a prick earlier. I just didn’t wanna bother you like this, y’know? You don’t need this shit anymore.”

“I don’t mind, Marc. Honestly.”

“But I do. This shouldn’t be your responsibility. You’re too good for this.” He trailed off and your pulse rate quickened. You didn’t know what to say, so you decided silence was acceptable. This time, the silence felt more comfortable. As if you were now used to each other again. You mentally kicked yourself; you couldn’t allow yourself to get used to his presence.

You were driving down a particularly empty street, the prison taking you on the outskirts of the usual busy city life. That, and the fact it was incredibly early in the morning, so early, the sun was still hidden beneath the stars.

You had turned on the radio a while back, letting the music fill the car to disperse some of the tension. You hardly noticed, however, when it started crackling. It was only when the car started slowing down that you took notice of the dashboard. The flashing red light made you curse.

“What?” Marc said, but instantly realised why when the car spluttered to a stop, the radio dying with a whirl. You couldn’t resist the urge to flop onto the steering wheel, letting out a prolonged groan as you realised the situation- you had broken down on an empty road with your ex.

It truly couldn’t be worse.

“Shit.” He muttered, and you agreed, head still on the steering wheel. However, you looked up at the click on the passenger door.

“Where are you going?! Don’t leave me here!” You whined, and Marc rolled his eyes jokingly.

“Not leaving you, just gonna check the car. Just try ‘n call road services or somethin’, yeah? It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, reaching for your phone, nearly crying as you saw the ‘No Signal’.

“Fuck, Marc, I don’t have a signal!” You called out, holding it into the air to no avail. “Marc? I’m coming out.” You opened the door, eyes trained to the phone as you waved it into the air again, a string of curses leaving your lips as the same signal portrayed itself on the screen.

You could see the silhouette of him at the front of the car, figure hidden behind the bonnet. You were shocked he knew even remotely what he was doing. Car’s weren’t his thing.

Oh no.

It finally hit you as he fully came into view. His face was harder, eyebrows drawn together, lips in a tight scowl. You hadn’t seen Jake Lockley in a while. In fact, you hadn’t heard a thing from him. No accidental calls, no awkward run ins. The last time you had seen him, well, you’d been under him.

“Hi.” You started, instantly feeling awkward at your tone. There was no answer. You wondered if maybe, he hadn’t heard you, that maybe he was so wrapped up in the car that he was oblivious to anything else. So, you tried again, this time adding a small, “Jake?”

You heard him sigh, followed by a frustrated, “hm?”

Oh.

“How’s it looking?”

“Fine.” Confusion filled you at his tone. He was being short. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to you, and you couldn’t ignore the hurt it made you feel.

“Well, it clearly isn’t fine if it broke down.” You snapped; you couldn’t help it.

“ ‘k, then it isn’t fine. Lemme concentrate, bueno?” Okay. You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around your body.

“Is there anything I can do-”

“No.” Anger flared in your blood. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so nonchalant, so infuriating.  

You suddenly missed Marc.

Without another word, you stormed back to the car, making a point of shutting the door so the bonnet rattled. You could practically hear the roll of his eyes, and it provided you with some solace.

He was out there for another 15 minutes. You wondered if it would even be him to front back at the car, and a big part of you hoped it wasn’t. You knew by the sharp tap on your window that it was, indeed, Jake.

You opened the door, trying to appear calm. “C’mere, have to test the engine.”

“I could do that.”

“I will, I know what ‘m doing.”

“And I don’t?”

“C’mon, relajarse. Relax. Let me.” Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was the way his eyes were suddenly looking into yours from above, but you complied, rolling your eyes as you did so. Jake muttered something in Spanish that you didn’t catch, but you thought that was probably for the best.

You watched begrudgingly as he tried the engine once, twice, before the familiar roar of your car rumbled through the night. You expected him to get out, let you back in the drivers side, but much to your annoyance, he didn’t.

Instead, he motioned for you to get in. You wanted to complain but decided if he wanted to put in the effort of driving, whatever. You were tired anyway.

There was a different atmosphere than when Marc was fronting, and it was evident from the second you sat down. The atmosphere was tense, and the small space of the car felt suffocating, even with the window cracked down.

There was something about Jake, something utterly intoxicating, that pulled you under every time you even thought about him, let alone being in his presence. The implications that came with merely seeing his face made your brain cloudy and heart jittery.

How could you ever truly move on?

You tried not to let the thought in as you trained your eyes out the window, watching the trees and bushes blur into one green smudge. But it was corrupting your thoughts, infiltrating your defence systems.

You snuck a peek over at Jake. You were surprised he had even stuck around this long. A part of you expected him to stop fronting, render control to Marc as soon as he had fixed the car. The question was leaving your lips before you could even process you were speaking’ “Why are you still here, Jake?”

His jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “He wants me to stay.”

“Marc?” And he nodded. “You don’t…” You began but cut yourself off with a sad sigh. Jake didn’t want to be fronting with you and Marc didn’t want to swap back.

“I don’t…?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jake wanted to push but receded back into his silence. You didn’t miss the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel. You imagined Marc was pushing him to say something, but he didn’t.

He didn’t for a while.

You had adjusted to the silence, accepted that this would be how this night would end. The night sky had become lighter, the sun just beginning to peek out from beneath the horizon. You couldn’t quite believe it was nearly morning. You resisted the urge to yawn, covering your mouth slightly.

“Tired?” His voice shocked you slightly, but you hid it, raising an eyebrow in answer. “That was- of course, you’re tired, Soy un idiota. I’m an idiot.” You smiled slightly, shaking your head.

“You must be tired, too.” He shrugged.

“Who’s wedding?”

“Hm?” He took his eyes off his road for a split second to nod toward the crumpled invitation you had hastily scribbled the address down. “Oh, ‘s a friend’s. Next month.”

“Yeah? Do I know ‘em?” You shook your head.

“It’s a new friend.” He didn’t know everyone in your life anymore.

“I see.” You could tell he was pondering something by the way he was nodding slightly, tapping the steering wheel in succession to invisible music. “You got a plus one?” You couldn’t hide the shock on your face.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” he replied too fast, “Just wonderin’.” You kept your eyes on him for a moment, gaze hard, but you felt a playfulness fill you.

“I was thinking of inviting this guy from work,” His jaw clenched, “But I want to keep my options open, you know?” He hummed, lips twisting up in a smirk.

“That’s what I do.” You had started it, the playful toying, the ploy to make him jealous, but the insulation they had options made your stomach turn. You reminded yourself he wasn’t yours to be jealous about.

“It’s fun having options. It’s freeing.” It wasn’t. Since them, you had gone on a handful of dates and all of them ended with awkward conversation and blocked numbers. But it was worth saying to see his smirk falter.

“As long as you’re happy.” Happy was perhaps an overstatement. You shrugged. “You are happy, aren’t you?” You hesitated. It was easy to say yes. It was easy to end the conversation here, as the car was nearing their flat.

“I’m getting through.” That struck him. All he cared about, still, was your happiness…no, he couldn’t, not anymore. You recognised the road instantly, knew the flat was close. God, even the street felt like home. Like you were travelling back through the trails in your memory. If you shut your eyes, you could imagine you were back in their bed. You can feel the sun on your skin through the cracks in their curtains. You can hear the car horns from a traffic altercation. You can feel their heart beating underneath your head. Nothing bad has happened.

“Hogar dulce hogar; home sweet home.” But not for you.

He parked and turned the engine off. You listened as it died down to silence. This was it.

“So this was…” You tried to find a word to quite describe the night, but settled on, “strange.”

He chuckled and it was addictive. “You could say that.” He unclicked his seatbelt and settled back in the seat for a moment. Like he belonged in your car with you. “Listen, thank you for all this. Gracias.”

“Jake… why didn’t you want to front earlier?” He sighed deeply, and you were worried you had overstepped.

“ ‘s too much. Being around you again, fuck, just brings it all back, ‘s all, Carino.” The term of endearment slipped out, but it was too late, the damage was done. “I should go. Thank you again.” He muttered, wiping his hands on his trousers, making a move to leave.

“Brings what back?” He paused.

“Everything.” He felt it, too. You were surprised to see him already looking at you. Your eyes met but this time, you didn’t look away. It felt all too familiar to be looking into his eyes. And then, his eyes were rolling back. You didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening before he was there.

His eyes held a softness unlike any you had ever seen in your life. You could recognise it from anywhere, but only from him. His body instantly slouched, his eyes whipping away from yours.

Steven. Sweet, sweet Steven.

His hands began to tremble as he raised them in front of his face, looking at the swelling of his knuckles, at the bruises forming on his skin. “I-I-“ He began to stutter, turning to look at himself in the reflection of the glass before abruptly looking away. “I did something bad.”

“Steven-” He jumped as if he hadn’t quite comprehended it was you sat there. He hadn’t heard his name from your voice in too long and it made his heart quiver.

“I-It was like I just lost control, y’know? I don’t- I blacked out for a minute and then there was sirens and Marc-” He cut himself off with a gasp and you felt tears fill your eyes. “Oh goodness, what have I done? I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

“No, Steven, you’re not-” you began but he was already talking again.

“And now you had to come clean up my mess. ‘S not fair, how could I do this to you? After everything, fuck, you don’t need this. You don’t need me anymore.” You were at a loss for words. You did need him. You needed him like you needed air to breathe. You needed him like you needed books to read. You needed him in a way you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, especially since you had lost him. Had lost all of them.

“Listen-”

“There was a kid, y’know? I saw him, in the window. He must’ve thought that I… that I…” And then, he was crying, body shaking in sobs. You broke then, the need to hold him too much, too strong. He melted into your arms, clutching at the back of your shirt as you held him in your arms. He buried his face in your shoulder, and you could feel his tears soaking your skin, but you didn’t mind, not one bit.

You ran your hands over his back, whispering whatever comfort you could string together. Your hands trailed the hairs climbing the back of his neck like you had a million times before, hoping it would provide something that would help, some solace that words couldn’t give. “You did the right thing, Steven.” You whispered as you felt his breathing begin to slow down. His hands became limp on your shirt, instead opting to hold you as tightly as you were holding him. “You always do the right thing.”

“What if ‘m a bad person?” He quivered, voice barely above a croaky whisper. You swallowed harshly, feeling tears sting your eyes at one of the people you cared about most thinking so lowly of himself.

“No, Steven, of course not. You’re… you’re one of the best people I’ve ever know? The best of the best, okay?” He sniffled, and you gently eased his face up, so he was looking at you. “You are a good person, Steven Grant.” You looked into each-others eyes for a while. There was no ounce of awkwardness, no trace of tension. The comfort it brought to see those eyes again was more than any drug, any romcom could ever provide.  

You studied his features. Soft, teary eyes, bloodshot and scared, but swirling with adoration and care. The tension between his eyebrows was gone, replaced instead with a smooth, vulnerable expression. But most of all, you noticed the bruises. Unlike with Marc, you didn’t resist the urge to run featherlight touches around them, hoping it would help him heal faster. Somehow, even in this state, he looked angelic. In fact, you had never seen him look bad. Because Steven was good. “ ‘m sorry.” He suddenly broke the silence, instantly looking away from you as if talking to you was too much. 

You looked at him confused, running a hand through his hair in encouragement as you whispered a small, “For what?”

“My fault you’re here right now. ‘m sure you have a trillion other things you’d rather be doin’ than sitting here with a sorry sod like me.” You smiled, shaking your head.

“If you think lying in my flat whilst my upstairs neighbours shag is something I’d rather be doing, you’re greatly mistaken.” You felt him smile against your neck and you resisted the urge to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Still, must be better than seeing us.” You shook your head, though he couldn’t see you.

I’ve missed you like crazy. I would do anything to see you, anything. Come back to me. Please. 

You settled on, “I’ll always be here to help.” Neither of you said much after that. Not for a while. You were so comfortable, unnervingly so, with Steven holding you, your hands in his hair. It was so intimate, more intimate than anything you’ve had since the break-up. You quickly realised you craved it. That this was the missing piece in your life, that they were the missing pieces. 

The sun was breaking through the dark now, a light pink casting a warm glow onto the dull streets. That was what he felt like, you thought. He was the sunrise. You felt yourself drifting off and caught yourself, realising the time in the car had to come to an end. You didn’t want too, but you shifted, and Steven lifted his head, rubbing his eyes slightly. 

“Should probably get you to bed, you must be exhausted.” You muttered to him, forcing your hands to untangle from his curls. He nodded, sitting up and you instantly missed the weight and warmth of him on top of you.

“ ‘kay.” You stretched slightly, feeling tiredness settle in your bones but you pushed it away. Steven took in the beginning of the sunrise, and you noticed his lips twitch up in wonder. He was the type of person to get excited at every sunrise, every sunset, every odd-shaped cloud; no matter how many times he’d seen it. He found the beauty in everything. It was one of the things you loved about him. Loved.

“So, just lemme know if you need anything, you can message me. Do you still have my number? I can write it down, or not, whatever you want-”

“You aren’t coming in with me?”

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d want me too.” 

“Yes, please. If you want too.” You paused. Seeing their flat? Being in that space again? The thought made your heart flutter and stomach churn. But you nodded, deciding he needed your help more tha your heart needed peace. The steps up to their flat was so familiar, you could do it with your eyes closed. You knew every bump, every turn, every creaky floorboard. You were at the door before you knew it, and Steven was jingling the keys in the lock. 

“Sorry about the mess.” He said, and you smiled.

It was messy, yes, but messy in the way that felt exactly like home. It smelled the same. It looked the same, apart from the new curtains you were sure Steven had picked out. You felt like you were unlocking a piece of your heart with every step you took. You spotted his desk, piled with all sorts of Ancient History books, papers of various missions they’d been on, and Steven’s new name badge with the words, ‘Tour Guide’ formally placed underneath. You let your fingers trace it, a grin breaking out onto your face. 

“Congratulations.” You said, holding it up so Steven could see what you were talking about. He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s… wonderful. I love it. Donna quit, and the new manager, Kathy, she promoted me.” 

“That’s amazing, Steven, truly. ‘m so proud of you, you deserve it.” You couldn’t stop the praise, and you watched his cheeks tint in a blush. 

“You always said I could do it.” He said, and you nodded. “You always believed in me.” You always would.

“It’s cause I knew you could. It’s all down to you.” You stayed smiling at each other for a moment before Steven yawned. You shook your head, putting his name badge down and clasping your hands together. 

“Let’s get you to sleep.” He chuckled, nodding and rubbing his eyes. Steven went to the bathroom as you set up his bed, plumping his pillows and straightening his duvet. You ignored the ache in your heart at the sight of your side of the bed, lingering your hands on the pillow as you remembered all the times you had been in their bed. You broke from it at the sound of the bathroom door unlocking. 

He came out dressed in his pj bottoms and a jumper. He took note of his now tidy bed and smiled, wanting nothing more than to lay you down and hold you. He didn’t say much as he got into bed, tucking himself under the covers and sighing deeply. You didn’t know where to look, where to stand. You figured you could leave when he got into bed. You only shifted slightly when Steven grabbed your hand gently, tugging you toward him.

“Stay with me?” He whispered so quietly; you almost didn’t catch it. You felt a lump rise in your throat. You didn’t even have to ponder it as you nodded, slipping into the side of the bed, your side, next to him. He turned over, facing away from you as you swung an arm over waist. You felt his muscles untense as he grabbed your hands to the front of him, stroking the skin softly. You rested your cheek against his back, nuzzling the skin to provide as much comfort as you could.

“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.” He whispered tiredly, on the cusp of sleep. You tried to stop your eyes watering, a single tear slipping out which you quickly wiped away.

“Thank you for letting me.” His grip on your hands loosened and his breathing became heavy in a way you recognised instantly; he was asleep. You pulled your hands out from him, careful not to make too much movement. The bed creaked as you rolled out, but he didn’t even flinch. You straightened out the sheets, reshaped the pillow. You thought about him. And then about Marc, and Jake. What they meant to you, still, and what you feared they always would.

You couldn’t help but look at him one last time. He looked at peace, finally, like an angel. You couldn’t resist the urge anymore, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Steven.” You whispered, stroking his hair before making your way out of their flat.

The sun had risen completely now, gold cascading over the buildings. A new day. You turned one more time. You wished you could reverse time, go back to when you were happy and at peace with them. But, alas, that was impossible. So, with your heart yearning, and your stomach turning, you left.

You awoke in the late afternoon, thoughts plagued with the events from the night. As hard as it was, you hadn’t wanted it to end. You had never been happier than when you were with them. The thought haunted you. You turned, stretching deeply as your limbs refused to move too much. With a sigh, you reached over for your phone. You scrolled through your notifications, not paying too much mind, until you saw the familiar number beaming on the screen.

You sat up instantly, clicking on the message and reading it:

Thank you for everything. 

You didn’t know which of your boys had sent it, and you didn’t care. You held the phone to your heart, trying to absorb the remnants you had left of them. And whilst it was just a message, you couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of hope. Perhaps this wasn’t it. Perhaps they felt it too. 

You smiled, shutting your eyes, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Finally- a new day. 

tags: @daddyjackfrost @rmoonstoner @midgardian-witch @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @lovepeaceorelse @lokilover476​ (please do let me know if you don’t want to be on this taglist, it is quite old now so feel free to message me and i’ll remove you!!!)​

[luvrxbunny]

God I feel so dirty requesting this off anon lmao- may I have some titty worship with the moon boys? Any one of them will do, I don't mind :) I hope this request is ok!!!

a/n: im sorry this took so long bb also idk if this is what u wanted I'm sorry i tried!!

hershey's kisses

pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader and Marc Spector x f!reader

summary: You stumble upon a wonderful secret

warnings: 18+ MDNI, cum in pants, oral (m receiving), nipple play(?)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: it's called hershey's kisses cus that's what oscar isaacs nipples remind me of also sorry abt the gumdrop thing lmao

Steven Grant - 0.8k

You have him laid out on the couch, whatever movie that was playing is long forgotten about and he’s whining your name beautifully, a little symphony just for your ears as you suck his sensitive bud into your mouth. “Sto- The movie, baby. We-” His head falls back again as you scrape your teeth over the skin gently. 

You were just playing with the hem of his shirt when this all started, but Steven had to go and be all squirmy about it so of course you ventured further. You trailed your hand up his abs, listening to how his breathing sped up the closer you got to his pecks. He let out the most satisfying moan when you pinched his nipples between your fingers. So obviously you had to up the sensations. You backed him up until he was laying down for you and being the good boy he is, his legs instantly spread to make room for you between them. You shimmied yourself up his body until his chocolate kisses were level with your eager lips. 

His back arched beautifully, pushing his chest further into your lips as he tried to hold his moans in. “Stop it, get-- get off.” You pause for a moment looking up. His fingers are digging into the fabric of the couch as you kiss all over him. Your hand comes up to make sure both nipples are getting enough attention before diverting your gaze to his face. 

His eyes are shut tight but you can tell they’re rolled back behind his lids. His hips are thrusting ever so slightly, gaining ghostlike friction for his rapidly hardening cock. You’re sat between his legs but not close enough for him to grind against you and it's the most annoying thing he’s ever experienced. “Please I can’t--” He cuts himself off with another gasp and his hands come to grip your shoulders, a warning of sorts but he does nothing to pull you away. You bite and suck at his nipple like you’re trying to leave a hickey over it. 

“More--” His voice is broken, every word coming out as a raspy gasp. You stop your assault and look up at him with a deviously innocent smile. “What, baby?” You ask him with the sweetest voice you can conjure. “What do you need?” You watch his adam’s apple bob as he tries to hold in his whines of frustration. 

“I need more.” He sounds like he could cry, so after watching him squirm, you give in. Your hand comes to cup the bulge in his pants and he reacts instantly. A pathetic moan slips from his lips as his hips press themselves into your hand as roughly as he can, shaking and whimpering as he does. 

You admire the sight for a bit before bringing your attention back to his nipples, earning yourself a cut of moan of “Oh! F--” His hips stutter against your palm in their pace. His lips are pursed shut, giving you ragged little hums of what his moans should be and you have to bring your other hand up to grab his jaw, force his mouth open to hear them. They come pouring out of his mouth, more debauched than before, they’re barely moans at this point, more like shouts of pleasure. 

You feel bad for assaulting him like this. He’s probably never had anyone pay this much attention to his nipples before but they're so soft, smooth, perfect in your mouth, and you get the bonus of hearing his angelic sounds above you, so why would you stop? 

You have to pull your mouth away from him within the next minute because one of his hands grabs your wrist that's holding his jaw in a way that's more than a little warning, it's a frantic and desperate grip. You look up instantly, worried that maybe you were gripping him too tightly but when your eyes land on his face you're met with someone you hadn’t even considered. 

His eyes are rolled back, deep into his head, his mouth is open wide, his plush lips trembling as he moans silently and his hips bucking gently into your hand as he fills his pants. His eyebrows pull tauter the longer he’s cumming, it’s knocked all the breath from his lungs and his face is turning a bit red. You’ve been entranced with him since you laid your eyes on his beautiful face but now you’re getting a little worried. 

You lean into his ear and whisper gently, not wanting to startle him. “Breathe, baby” and thankfully that seems to do the trick, all his groans and whines shoot from his mouth as his eyes come forward and shut tightly, he leans into you for comfort and you instantly wrap all your free limbs around him, and your hand still massaging his spent cock as he shakes in your hold. 

Marc Spector - 0.6k

You’ve been on your knees in front of Marc for around fifteen minutes and your knees are starting to hurt. He’s groaning gently above you but it doesn't sound like he's anywhere near close. It sounds like he’s just soaking in the pleasure your mouth is giving him, relishing it, losing himself in it, but the carpet is digging into your skin, and your jaw is getting so sore you're afraid it’ll be stuck open by the time he’s done. So you start roaming your hands around his body, scratching his thighs lightly and feeling them jump. You’re trying to figure out anything you can do to speed up this process.

His sounds get a bit more frequent, a little more breathy as you work your way to his hips, just admiring his body, his smooth, soft skin. Your hands can feel his stomach tensing as you slide up to his chest. His moans have died down a bit, sounding more like they're stuck in his throat as you rub over his body. His hips are beginning to grind further into your mouth, nudging down your throat as you reach his pecs. 

His mouth finally opens again and a gasp flies out as your fingers pinch down on his nipples gently. You meant it as a playful little gesture, something he does when he's going down on you but the gasp is telling as to how he feels about the action. 

Your thumbs press into his nipples a little roughly to get his hips to buck again. “S- Baby--!” You can hear him struggling above you, choking on air and your eyes open to see his hands clutching the bedsheets like his life depends on it. His cock is twitching more frantically in your mouth the longer you tease his gumdrops. 

Marc is losing his mind above you. He’s never ventured over his body like this, whenever he’s getting himself off, all he needs is the thought of you, he doesn’t need all this. But of course, you’d be the one to give it to him. His eyes are shut as tightly as he can, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tries not to melt into your mouth. All his thoughts are clouding, he can’t think about anything aside from how perfectly you're touching him. How when you saw the stress in his face, you instantly got on your knees to make him feel better. Fuck. 

He wants to last and relish in the romance of how you’ll serve him but you know him too well. You haven’t stopped assaulting his nipples since you found them. He can feel you please hums over his cock and heat is pooling at the base of his stomach, sliding down and warming his balls as he feels your lips pull into a small smirk. 

He can’t help the broken whimper that falls from his lips and his entire body seizes as his dick explodes down your throat. His entire body flashes with heat and all he can see is white. He feels all the hairs on his body stand, alert to every sensation you're giving him. He can hear your moans over his cock, he can imagine that beautiful look of bliss you always have when his balls feed you like this. When he floods your mouth for so long you have no choice but to drink it all, he can feel himself shaking in your grasp, your thumbs still dutifully circling his chest in a way that has him arching into you embarrassingly, trying to prolong the immense pleasure you elicit.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!!

[lipstickmarks]

Steven to the Rescue

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader Category: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff Warnings: none Content: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing, making out in public, reader has a terrible horrible no good very bad week and steven is there for her, Steven’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch, reader getting princess treatment, reader is kinda corporate girlie coded, steven being smooth, steven can cook, steven might be slightly ooc bc he is my silly putty and i am bending him to my will

Steven loved his job. He loved going into work everyday to consume any and all things related to egyptology. It’s what makes him able to withstand the abuse from Donna– which is lessened now that he’s been promoted to tour guide and she technically isn’t his supervisor anymore. But today, he simply does not want to go. 

He’s been watching you pace around his kitchen nervously for the past five minutes, checking your phone, watch, and laptop in quick succession. It had been… a less than stellar week for you.

Firstly, your job has been stressing you out by offloading duties onto you that weren’t in your job description because someone else had quit unexpectedly. Then, there was an error with your bank and your paycheck wasn’t deposited so you had to wait an extra 3 days to pay your bills. On top of it all, your phone service provider was having some sort of nationwide glitch so you barely had any service. 

Not only did you have twice the workload but you weren’t getting any of your work emails on time. Plus, you had to be in constant contact with the bank to sort out their issue. It’s why you’d come over to Steven’s flat before work, to use his internet and hopefully get a better signal. Plus, you two wanted to see each other. 

Steven had made some cranberry muffins and vegan egg bites for the two of you but your plate remained untouched while you paced around, waiting for a bar. 

“Love,” Steven murmured, reaching out to grab your elbow. You looked up from the laptop you were cradling in your arms and Steven nearly sighed out loud at the sight of your eyes. Beautiful, but so so tired. The universe has been running his favorite person ragged and it hurt him to see you so downtrodden by life. “You really should eat something before work.” 

You sighed and sat down your devices, trading them for a muffin. Steven cracked a smile at how your demeanor visibly changed once you took a bite. You always swore Steven put some kind of happy elixir into his food because it never failed to bring your spirits up. You gobbled up one muffin and reached for another. 

“Thank you for breakfast.” 

Steven leaned over and kissed the side of your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, darling. Hate to see you so out of sorts.” 

With you finally eating, Steven finished getting dressed. He had to go into work earlier than you did so he let you stay and finish doing what you needed to do. Before he left, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a soft kiss. 

“I’m off then, darling. You’ll be okay here?” 

You gave him a reassuring nod as you swallowed a bite. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna finish up in a little bit. I have a feeling today is going to be better.” 

Steven beamed at you. He kissed you once, twice, three times and he knew if we went for a fourth, he’d cave and stay home with you. 

“Right, I’d better get going before I lose my job again.” But Steven made no move to leave. He was staring at you with that dreamy look, the one that had been perpetually fixed on his face ever since you two started dating two months ago. Steven was the perfect boyfriend. Gentle, thoughtful, and he adored you so much. 

“Go,” You told him. “I’ll be fine, really.” 

Steven gave you one last squeeze before walking out the door. 

—----------

Steven was finishing up a tour with a school field trip and he was buzzing from how well it went. Usually, preteens were their own unique breed of nasty– making inappropriate noises, laughing obnoxiously, and just generally being awful but a boy and girl had been asking tons of insightful questions, spurring Steven on and letting him flex his breadth of knowledge. And if there was any snark, the teacher shut it down expeditiously so Steven could continue. 

It was probably the best tour he’d given since he started working there. 

Plus, earlier in the morning, the curator had pulled him aside and said they were looking for someone to give virtual tours that they could record and post online. If he got it, it would mean a pay bump and more benefits. 

Things were finally going his way!

The group was just starting to shuffle off for lunch when Steven spotted you, standing off to the side of the museum entrance. His whole face broke out into a grin and his heart skipped a beat, but that elation faded when he saw your eyes. 

You had been crying. 

As soon as everyone was gone, Steven crossed the room to you. You both reached for each other. His hands fell to your hips and you clutched his bicep. 

“Love, what’s happened?” 

You tried to smile but your eyes were bloodshot and puffy. You were holding back tears and you looked like you were on the precipice of a complete breakdown. Like if someone pricked you with a sewing needle, you’d pop. 

When you spoke, it came out small and broken. 

“I tried to call you but my phone—” Your voice died on the word and Steven’s grip tightened around you. 

“Darling?” 

“I came to ask for a favor. My apartment… they called me while I was at work. A pipe burst.” Your lip quivered. “All my stuff is ruined.” 

Steven’s eyes widened. 

“No.”

You nodded, fat tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“They said it’s gonna take three weeks to fix it.” You started wringing your hands nervously and took a steadying breath before you spoke again. “I was hoping I could stay with you.”

Steven’s answer is an immediate yes. 

“Absolutely, love. Anything you need.” 

He couldn’t stand it anymore and he pulled you into a tight hug. Your head fell lamely against his chest and he felt your tears soaking through his shirt but he didn’t mind. Not one bit. You peered up at him, face hot and flushed with tears.

“You’re sure it won’t be a problem? We haven’t been dating that long and I don’t want it to be…” You floundered, searching for the right word but Steven knew exactly what you meant. He caught your hand with his and brought it up to kiss the back of it. 

“It won’t be. It'll be like a slumber party, yeah? We’ll bake cookies and watch films. It’ll be fun.”

You nodded but Steven could tell you weren’t convinced. After the week you’d been having, what reason did you have to believe anything else was going to go right for you? You looked like you were a single moment away from shattering entirely. 

“Do you want to leave now? I can take the rest of the day off. I can find someone to cover my afternoon tours.” 

You shook your head and wiped your eyes.

“No. No, I have to go back to work. We have an important meeting.” You sniffed. Steven’s heart broke seeing you like this. You just looked so defeated. 

Steven thought hard for a moment. How could he make this better for you? How could he lighten your load? 

“How about this? I’ll pick you up after work. We’ll stop by your flat and get anything we need and then we’ll go back to mine, hm?” He brushed the falling hair out of your eyes. “We’ll get a takeaway, watch your favorite show, I’ll even let you braid my hair if you like.” 

You chuckled a bit. 

“Can we get dessert?” 

Steven kissed your forehead. 

“Anything you want, love.”

You nodded and a genuine smile returned to your face. 

“Alright, well I better get back. I’m on my lunch break and it’s gonna take me 15 minutes to get back across town.” 

Steven stopped you before you could leave.

“Darling, have you eaten lunch?” 

You looked sheepish when you shook your head. Steven wouldn’t be having that. Wordlessly, he laced your fingertips with his and lead you down to the employee lockers. He opened up his where the only contents were a book of Egyptology, his spare glasses, a Tawaret funko pop, his lunch box, and a picture of you taped to the inside. 

He pulled out his lunchbox and placed it in your arms.

“Steven, no.” You gasped. “I can’t take your lunch.” 

You took his lunch. 

No matter how much protesting you did, Steven insisted, waving off your concerns with a promise that he would get something from a food truck at lunch. He hailed a taxi for you before you could argue any further. 

“Steven, I don’t have cab fare.” You said with wide eyes as the taxi pulled up. “Remember? My bank–”

He pulled out his own wallet and handed the driver his bank card. 

“Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend going across town on public transport. Someone might steal you away from me.” 

You flushed. Your stomach was doing happy flips from feeling so taken care of. Steven took his card back from the driver and tucked it away. You were full on crying now as you wrapped your arms around him and weeped into his chest. 

“It’s alright, love.” He murmured in your ear. 

You pulled back to kiss him. It was eager and much too sloppy to do in broad daylight on the steps of his place of work but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Thank you for going to all this trouble for me.” You mumbled as you pulled away. 

“It’s no trouble at all, love.” He opened up the cab food for you and didn’t shut it until you were inside. “I’ll pick you up at your office at the end of the day, okay?” 

You nodded and Steven leaned his head through the window to give you one last kiss. 

“Last chance to play hooky with me for the rest of the day?” 

You giggled and shook your head. 

“Tempting, but no. I’ve got to go be a grownup.” 

Steven smiled at you and mouthed a silent “okay.” He stepped back onto the curb and once the road was clear, your cab pulled out into the street. 

Once Steven was out of view, you opened up his lunchbox. He had a habit of overpacking in case he was stuck on the bus for a while and needed a snack, which came in handry because you were starving. You ate his sandwich, chips, soda, half a bag of grapes, and a cookie. 

At a red light, your driver turned back to you. 

“Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She swooned. 

“You don’t know the half of it.” You giggled. “This is his lunch.” 

She gasped.

“Shut up! That is so cute! Oh my gosh, you’re so lucky.” 

You grinned.

“Yeah. I am.” 

—-----------

The rest of the afternoon went painfully slow for you.Thankfully, you got so busy with work that you temporarily forgot you were broke, without a phone, and temporarily homeless. 

When it was finally time to go, you headed toward the front desk, intending to use the landline to call Steven but when you stepped into the hall, he was already there. You had to do a double take at first because you thought you might have been dreaming or seeing things. But no, this was real life. 

Steven Grant, your nerdy, sweet, perfect boyfriend was chatting to your office receptionist with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

“I never realized the museum was free! I always thought it cost money, that’s why I haven’t brought my kids.” The receptionist said, embroiled in a conversation with Steven. 

“Loads of people think that, actually but yeah it’s free entry. It only costs money for tours. Though, if you’re bringing your little ones, I can’t recommend the tours enough. You get loads of extra information that just reading the pamphlets won’t give you. Not to toot my own horn but I give a pretty educational tour if I do say so myself.” Steven said with a relaxed smile. Ever since he’d been promoted to tour guide, he’s been so much more sure of himself. He’s still the goofy, sweet, bumbling nerd he always has been but the constant exposure to his passion has cushioned him in a cozy little bubble of Egyptology, vegan baking, and you. How could he not feel content? 

“I think I’ll take them next weekend.” The receptionist said as you arrived at the desk. “I’d like a tour with you as well.” She looked up from scribbling the museum information on a Post-It note and saw you. “Oh, here you are, darling! Does this sweet man belong to you?” 

Just as she asked, Steven held out the bouquet to you. Red roses, pink tulips, white calla lilies, and some hydrangeas to fill it out. 

“He does.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. You took the bouquet from Steven and smelled the flowers. Steven gently pulled your purse strap off of your shoulder and took his lunch box out of your hands, holding them both and holding his free hand out for you. 

“Are you ready, love? The cab’s waiting.” 

Do not cry. Do not cry in your place of work. Do not cry because your boyfriend is being so sweet and you’ve never felt this cared for in your life. 

To avoid your voice coming out high and squeaky, you nodded and took his outstretched hand. Bidding goodbye to the receptionist, he led you out the doors and into the cab, leading you home. 

*****

It feels strange.

You’re not sure why. You’ve spent the night at Steven’s flat before, had dinner, read books, spent all night in his bed, but this felt different. 

You were standing in Steven’s bathroom, hair damp from your shower. The second you got back to his flat, you’d made a beeline to the shower, eager to scrub all of your misfortune off. And you felt so strange, so out of place. 

It was a little more intimate knowing that you’d be here for three entire weeks, which put a decent amount of pressure on a fairly new relationship. You and Steven would be seeing each other in undesirable states, have to give each other space, and somehow maintain the dynamic of your relationship despite these new circumstances. 

You unloaded the grocery bag of toiletries that you picked up from your flat on the way here. Thankfully your hygiene essentials and skincare weren’t damaged. The same couldn’t be said for your clothes, though. 

At least it was the weekend and you didn’t have to worry about outfits for work. You could just lounge around in the sweater and boxers Steven had given you, or nothing if you preferred. Steven certainly wouldn’t mind. 

“Love?” Steven’s voice came through the bathroom door. “The food just got here. I’ll queue up a movie for us.”

“Alright.” You called out. “Be out in a minute.”

“Take your time, darling.” 

What on Earth did you do to deserve that wonderful, wonderful man? 

After changing, you stepped out into the living room where Steven had arranged the takeout boxes, poured you a glass of wine, and queued up “Tangled” on the TV. 

“Steven…” You plopped down on the couch next to him. “We could’ve cooked, you didn’t have to order out for me. I don’t want you going to any trouble for me.” 

Steven looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes that only love could be the catalyst for. He took your chin between his fingers and angled your face to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

“Darling, why would it be any trouble to care for you?” 

And just like that, as quickly as a match burns out, all of your anxieties and apprehension faded away. You didn’t feel out of place in Steven’s flat or mistreated by the universe. Here, in Steven’s arms, you only felt loved.

[spicyllewyn]

When you walk away.

Moon system x F ! Reader.

"When you walk away, Cut me open, take my heart So we'll never be apart Don't you let it go to waste."

Tags & warnings. NSFW, NON-CONSENSUAL. (+18)

Word count. 2.5k

Summary. You, literally, physically, cannot break with your boyfriends. (Inspired by the reddit story.)

The 4 of you were in tune, just as you had been throughout your entire relationship. Steven, Marc, and Jake were aware that this would happen at some point or another, much to their liking sooner rather than later, but sometimes there's not much you can do. Sometimes, being the keyword.

As time passed, your patience dwindled little by little. Cleaning Jake's wounds, comforting Steven's nightmares, and picking up the broken pieces of Marc's fits of anger became 'too much' when you realized that you were the one living with pain silently most of the time.

It wasn't their fault, you were aware of that, you couldn't deny that they loved you, and you didn't have the strength to lie to yourself about it, but you also knew that there was no way they would rid themselves of the title of vigilante. Khonshu didn't let them go, but they didn't fight as much as you would like either.

The sound of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and one last time Marc's exhausted expression caused a stir in your heart. You gave him a small smile, and he, seeing that strange expression, knew that the day had come.

"What are you doing awake?" He closed the door behind him.

"I was waiting for you." When your body shifted to one side of the couch, there was space for him beside you. Marc understood, the couch creaked under his weight, he was right at the corner of it, raising his arm to the backrest to be able to touch your shoulder with his fingers in a loving gesture. "We need to talk."

He nodded silently, his breath hitched but he managed to disguise it for you.

"I can't do this anymore, Marc." Your voice broke when you said his name, and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as if trying to convey the strength you needed to continue. "I love you but I think this isn't the best for either of us."

He nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I understand." He didn't make a scene, he didn't raise his voice, and he didn't plead, and even though the tears trapped in his eyes portrayed the real pain he felt, you knew he loved you too much to make this harder for you.

Marc would never turn the knife that he had already stabbed you with when he agreed to be in a relationship with you. He pulled your wrist and with a push, he brought you against his chest where you cried for a good 10 minutes until his voice caught your attention.

"I'm going to leave, okay?"

"You don't have to do it, not now." You checked the time on his watch; he still had an arm around you. "It's late."

"I need to be alone." His lips occasionally brushed against your hair, small kisses that carried the scent of your shampoo. "Please."

This time it was your turn to nod silently.

Your bodies broke the hug, and both of you felt the cold of the night hit you like a truck. You watched with crossed arms as he removed Steven and Jake's posters from the walls; he never liked putting up decorations of that kind.

He packed up what he could in some boxes, books, clothes, even a picture frame with a photo of both of you, he loaded everything into Jake's car.

He took your cheeks one last time, and you enjoyed the taste of mint in his mouth, those chewing gums he used to try to relax his anxiety, those that never worked. When Marc left, you sent a couple of messages to acquaintances to break the news because you had been together for so long that your partner could already be considered part of your family and your group of friends; you received some immediate responses.

Mostly words of encouragement, regretting that things hadn't worked out.

You went to sleep in a cold, lonely bed, but with a strange sensation, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had the chance to start over, to live a life with fewer worries.

Things could get better.

Steven's late-night podcast woke you up around 10 in the morning on Saturday, accompanied by a delicious scent of waffles; you knew it was him because the coconut aroma always prevailed in his vegan breakfasts.

Without opening your eyes, you complained to yourself. Were they trying to change your mind now? You were ready to argue.

The feeling of discomfort caught your breath in your lungs when you opened your eyes and saw the posters back on the wall. Looking down was also a surprise; you were wearing one of Steven's shirts, your favorite for sleeping.

You could swear Marc had taken it the day before along with many of his things.

"Love?" Steven's smile slowly faded when you appeared in the kitchen, an uncomfortable expression on your face. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?" He stopped what he was doing to walk up to you, his delicate touch landing on your cheeks just as Marc had done the night before, squeezing them to get your attention.

"I think... mhm." You let him interrupt you with a kiss. "I had a bad dream." Or at least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself. There was no other explanation for this happening.

"Sorry for leaving you alone in bed, I was starving." He looked genuinely concerned as his forehead rested against yours. "I made waffles for you; I know they're your favorites."

You spent the morning with him, and Steven being as affectionate as always didn't surprise you; that simply was Steven's personality. As the day went on, you understood that you had only experienced an extremely lucid dream, so you would have to go through this again somehow.

While your boyfriend rested his head on your lap, you stretched just a bit to grab your phone, which lit up with a message arrival, and you took the opportunity to check one last time that you weren't going crazy. You scrolled through all the messages, and there was none talking about breakups or anything close; in fact, your last message had been sent to their shared phone, you saying you missed them without receiving a response.

Your other hand, almost by inertia, played with Steven's curls as you searched for any sign that told you that the previous night had indeed happened.

Nothing.

"Are you okay?" He mumbled sleepily; apparently, your fingers had tensed in his hair.

"Mhm." You swallowed hard. You couldn't do this again; it felt like a cruel joke of life. "Can we talk? Please?"

Very much against his will, he straightened his back and faced you. Those beautiful brown eyes with dark circles underneath looked at you with as much admiration as they always had, his fingers intertwined with yours, and his thumbs stroked your hands.

"What's wrong, love?"

"We can't be together anymore." It was better if you did it bluntly, as if ripping off a band-aid all at once rather than doing it slowly.

His expression gradually fell, tears filled his eyes, his brow furrowed, and a small pout appeared on his lips. His fingers slowly tightened around yours.

Your hands hurt from the way he clung to you.

"Steven, you're hurting me." You sobbed too when you saw him cry openly. When you stood up, he fell to his knees in front of you without letting go. If only your dream had been real; going through this was hurting your heart twice as much as you had ever imagined.

Another reminder that Marc and Steven were not the same person.

"Sorry, I-I'm sorry." He stuttered as you helped him to his feet. He released your hands to hug you against his chest, almost cutting off your breath with the suddenness of his movements. "I'm sorry, love."

Sorry for what? He hadn't done anything wrong in the relationship; not all breakups arose from mistakes on either side, sometimes things just didn't work out, and that was it.

He, internally, knew very well why he was apologizing to you.

"I need to be alone, Steven." You whispered when you felt him hiccup against you in pain; his shirt you were wearing felt damp by now at shoulder level.

You gently pushed him back by the chest, and he took a step back, still trembling.

"I... Y-yeah, of course, I... understand." He forced himself to take a step back.

"Jake's car keys are where they always are." With heaviness, you had to turn your back on him, or you knew he would never leave. You could feel his brown orbs glued to you for just a few seconds before the slam of the door made you startle.

You ran your hands over your face in desperation. Facing it a second time had been worse, but things were done, fortunately, and you could talk about it better later, or at least that's what you hoped, when he felt calmer.

You sent messages giving the news, unlike your dream, this time it was a way to beg that no one asked about Jake, Marc, or Steven. You didn't have the strength.

A pair of arms tightened around you strongly causing you to groan in the middle of your sleep. You snapped your eyes open, feeling suffocated by the pressure.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You slurred as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“What's wrong, princesa?” He growled lowly as he pulled you tighter against him. He raised his head a little so he could look at you. He had barely one eye open, and thus he managed to look confused.

“Let go of me, Jake!” You were noticeably upset, his arms seemed to enclose you with increasing force as if he didn't notice that you were on the verge of a panic attack. The previous few hours hadn't been a dream, you were sure.

Your back hit his chest and you felt his breath on your neck.

“Wasn't one round enough for you?" His hips collided with yours to give emphasis to his words. “Do you want me to get you tired, amor?” One of his arms continued to take your breath away while his right hand moved down your body, stopping at one of your tits, squeezing it with his fingers almost in a playful way before continuing to crawl downwards, heading between your legs.

“Let go of me, I don't even know what the fuck you're doing here.”

Your voice cracked, breaking his heart.

But not as much as it would break him to let you go.

“I live here, tontita.” His fingers were rubbing against your pussy lips slowly. Up and down, forcing you to open your legs a little more.

“Jake, please.” Your eyes were filled with tears. This was a horrible nightmare.

“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay? I had a long day.”

You didn't even put in any strength. You didn't have it anymore. As his fingers played with you, his hips pushed against your ass, over and over, rubbing his boner against you.

He was going to admit it, even he couldn't imagine being attracted to the idea of ​​something like this. But after your attempts to escape, this felt like a way to reaffirm that you belonged to him.

“Look how wet you are, did you miss me?” When he got tired of his fingers doing the work he forced them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

Steven's shirt that you again didn't remember wearing made his job easier, only pushing aside your panties to insert his cock deep inside your being in a single thrust. And you no longer knew if you were sobbing from pleasure or fear.

You didn't remember him being so rough to you before. With one push he flipped you onto your stomach with him crushing your entire body, where he could thrust more comfortably with a handful of your hair tangled in his fingers.

You heard the bed creak, his gasps, and you felt your face wet from your saliva and tears filling your pillow.

“Fuck, that's just w-what I needed.” He was using you. You could recognize it, sex between you always meant pleasure for both of you, now he seemed to be using you as a thing where to leave his cum.

Between tears and kicking, deep down, you knew you were liking it.

He didn't last long, not right when he discovered how much he liked taking you this way. You slept with him next to you, with his sperm running down your legs and wishing this too had just been a dream.

You didn't search for them around the apartment the following morning; as soon as you got up, you ran straight to grab a suitcase, if you didn't escape your own damn mind was going to drive you crazy.

Three days had been enough to make it difficult for you to differentiate between reality and your lucid dreams or whatever it was you were experiencing. You bumped into Marc as you exited the room.

"Woah, what's going on?"

You didn't even respond to him; you couldn't even look him in the face after what they had done to you.

"Move!" You pushed him as hard as you could, grabbing your phone, which for the third time had not a single message about the breakup.

"Sweetheart?"

"How the hell dare you ask me what's wrong!?" You were shattered, your mind, your body, you. "Last night, Jake... "

"Huh?" He interrupted you with a furrowed brow. "We just got here, sweetheart."

No, no, no, no, he was lying to you.

He had to be lying to you. You wanted to wipe that confused expression off his face with punches and tear off the hand he was using to point at Jake's car keys in their place.

You put them there; he just threw them wherever when he arrived.

And truth be told, when you looked down between your legs, you were almost too clean.

You were going crazy.

"Fuck off, Marc." Erratically, you ripped the charger off your phone from the wall and almost ran to the front door as if he were chasing you. Which clearly he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't doing anything except looking confused. "You and Steven and Jake, leave me alone."

The slam of the door made you feel free, as did the car horns and sounds of street vendors.

That night, you searched for the farthest motel you could find; you kept your phone off after sending messages to acquaintances assuring them you were okay but didn't feel comfortable sharing your location with them at the moment.

Ah, and at least you had a good night's sleep, after a long time.

“Pancakes or waffles?”

Steven's voice made you snap your eyes open. Your head was on his arm, and you felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your back.

Tears filled your eyes when you recognized the place around you.

Your home.

When your sobs reached your boyfriend's ears, you immediately felt him place a kiss on your shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey? Did you have a bad dream?"

:)

[peterman-spideyparker]

Domestic Adonis (Steven Grant x Reader)

Author’s Note: I mean really, this fic kinda came about because I couldn’t get this gif out of my head and wanted a way to use it somehow. He just looks so damn fine and Daddyᵀᴹ (I literally hate that I just said that but there is no other way I can put it) therefore proves I’m a slut so🫣🤷🏻‍♀️ C’est la vie, non? And we just love to see Steven confident, comfortable, and adventurous😏Enjoy! :)

Summary: Steven gets some new reading glasses that make your heart skip a beat and make you think of something. One night in bed as the two of you read, you voice this opinion to him. When you get back from a work trip one week later, boy are you in for a treat.

Warnings: Fluff, smut (doesn’t the gif say it all? LOL. Oral–f/m!receiving, penetrative), swearing, mentions of babies

Other Characters: Marc Spector (It’s a primarily Steven x Reader fic, so where Marc does make an appearance and it is a Steven x Reader x Marc kinda deal, but where he’s just there for a bit is why I’m classifying Marc as an “other character”)

Word Count: 3,058

You honestly don’t know how long you’ve been staring at Steven. You usually sneak glances when you read together before bed. The face of concentration that he has as he reads makes your heart flutter—a mix of contentment and fierce interest. Steven usually sneaks glances at you when he hits a section break or a new chapter, and you can’t help but blush when you both look over at the same time. You love seeing him and knowing that he has chosen you just as much as you have chosen him, and you’re positive that Steven feels the same.

And his glasses. You love his readers. The rectangular specks make him adorable, but he got new glasses, and it has been putting dirty images in your mind since. You don’t know what it is about those specs, but you simply cannot stop looking at your boyfriend of two years.

“What are you thinkin’ about, love?” he says with a small smile as he pulls his attention from the pages in his book to you, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the moonlight that comes in through the window, the beams clashing with the warm lamplight. Incoherent sounds escape your lips. How do you tell him what you’re thinking without sounding like you’ve always wanted it? Because it isn’t true. It’s just with the curls of his hair, the vibe of the new glasses . . .

“You,” you hum simply.

He gives you a tired smile. “Anythin’ beyond that?”

You shrug. “Don’t get mad?” you ask.

“At you? I don’t think I could, but, okay.”

“Have you ever thought about growing a beard?”

“What?” he asks with a lithe chuckle. “A beard?”

“See? Silly question,” you say, trying to return to your book. “Forget it.”

“Hey, hey, stop,” he continues to chuckle, pushing down your novel by its spine. “You think I could pull one off?”

“You don’t think you could pull one off?”

“Not without lookin’ like a ragamuffin, I don't.”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking, I mean, you have great hair on your head all pretty curly like that, and the, uh, t-the glasses . . .” you trail off, swallowing hard and providing him with a gentle shrug. “It could work, that’s all.”

He gives you a soft smile. “I’ll talk with Marc about it. It’s his face too, after all.”

“No, really baby. You don’t have to—It was stupid of me—.”

Steven plants a kiss straight in the middle of your cheek and then on your lips.

“Nothin’ that could ever come out of your mind or mouth is stupid,” he tenderly chastises. “Just different, that’s all. And sometimes, different is bloody brilliant.” He dog ears his page and places his book on the nightstand. “Now, I don’t mean to change the subject, but since your flight leaves while I’m at work tomorrow, I want to make sure my girl’s got everythin’ she needs. I know you have clothes and shoes and jammies since I helped you pack all that earlier, but you have your computer?”

“In my crossbody by my luggage."

“Brilliant. Passport and ticket?”

“In my center purse pouch, all zipped.”

“And your phone is chargin’?”

“Affirmative, captain.”

“Jacket?”

“By the door.”

“Well, that’s all I can think of.”

“Well, I can think of one more thing. I’m going the need . . .” you purse your lips to the side and playfully tap your chin. “Eight kisses from you before you leave tomorrow morning.”

“Eight?” he beams.

“Eight,” you confirm.

“That many might get you somethin’ a little more than you hope for, love.”

“It’ll just be a bonus, then,” you smile. “Unless, you want to preemptively secure that bonus now?”

“You see, as much as I would love that—and I really, really would—I feel if we do that tonight or tomorrow, I’ll only miss you more when you go.”

You look at him with nothing but adoration. “You are just too sweet. I swear, one day, you’re gonna give me a cavity.”

“I’d hate myself if I ruined that smile of yours,” he says with a playful smirk.

You can only smile at Steven as you pull him down for a kiss, moving your head to rest on his chest afterward as you each resume you reading until you both fall asleep.

“Hi hon!” you greet as you push the apartment door open.

“You’re back early!” you hear Steven call from the kitchen, something sizzling in a pan.

“Yeah, well, turns out all the flight switches from the airline worked out in my favor,” you tell him as you put your luggage next to the table by the door and hang your coat up. When you see Steven, you lose all control of your mouth. It hangs open with a shocked, Cheshire Cat smile as you look at your boyfriend. He stands there in the living room, wiping his hands on a cloth towel with his hair slightly disheveled and a luscious beard on his jaw. He looks like a domestic Adonis. It takes all of your willpower not to rush over to him in this moment and jump his bones. Holy shit.

“Surprise!” he says.

“Oh my,” you giggle as your cheeks begin to hurt from smiling so big. “I didn’t think I was gone for that long.”

“This is almost a week’s worth of me not shavin’,” he blushes. “Do you like it?”

“Oh wow,” you repeat as you move towards your boyfriend. “Do I like it? You look so handsome! I mean, you always did but . . . Well, I mean, do you like it? It’s on your face!”

“It’ll take some gettin’ used to, but, it does make me look quite distinguished, don’t it?”

“Can you . . .” The words catch in your throat as you feel a blush and heat spread throughout your entire body.

“Can I what, love?”

“Can you put on your reading glasses for me?” you ask sheepishly.

His brows furrow momentarily as the corner of his mouth pulls into a confused grin before he moves over to the desk and slides them on.

Boom. Right there. Panties flooded. 

Steven was always undeniably sexy to you, but seeing him like this elevates him into another category of hotness. He looks like an older, sexy professor that everyone has the hots for.

“Just give me—,” you say as you hold up a finger, turning around briefly so you can let out a silent scream before you turn back to him, more composed this time.

“You know I saw that in the mirror, right?” he chuckles.

“I’m sorry, but this is really doing something to me and for me,” you breathe, still stunned at his appearance.

“Ooh,” he coos as he walks over to you with a spring in his step, placing his hands on you waist. “Someone is in a cheeky, saucy mood, isn’t she?”

“Uh, she was before she came home and now she really is,” you nod, draping your arms across his shoulders. Steven leans down for a kiss, and it sends your head into a spin. You knew the beard would probably tickle, but you are slightly taken aback at how soft the hairs are. You moan into his mouth and do what you can to deepen the kiss. Steven’s hands roam down your sides and squeeze the flesh of your hips. Your fingers comb through his long hair and tug at the roots, your body needing to get as much of Steven near you as possible. He grunts as your noses smush together and his hands move up your torso, scrunching up the cotton of your sweater in the process, the cool London air in the apartment tickling your skin. Steven’s fingertips graze the band of your bra, teasing you as you embrace and act on your desires.

“Mm,” you moan, your fingernails raking against his scalp. Put a baby in me.

After a beat, Steven’s hands unbunch the fabric of your sweater, pulling a whimper from your lips as he moves away.

“Is something burning?” you ask, trying to glance over to the range. You completely forgot he was cooking—he must smell something you don’t.

“No, no,” he says, his fingers gently pushing your gaze back toward him. “What did you just say?”

“If something was burning?”

“No, before that.”

“I don’t know. What did I say?” you ask genuinely.

“You said ‘Put a baby in me.’”

You look at him with wide eyes. “I said that out loud?”

“You didn’t mean to say it?”

“Um, not out loud, no,” you blush profusely. “I mean, I’ve thought about it, but, we haven’t really talked about it seriously or in-depth about it past the ‘Our kids would be so cute’ or ‘I want our kids to have your eyes’ stage. Marc and I haven’t really talked about it, either.”

Steven looks at you so tenderly you could fall apart. “I want to have a family with you,” he says softly. He looks over to the mirror, letting out a breathy chuckle as he grins and nods. “So does Marc. But we both agree that the beard might have made you a bit loopy and want to know if you’d be okay with delayin’ that for the moment.”

You smile and nod, bringing your lips back to his for a tender kiss. “Yeah, we can do that part later. When we talk about it more and decide if and yes, I’ll get off the pill and we can go from there.”

“Yeah,” he says warmly. “Yeah, we’d love that.”

“But, until then, uh, I do think you should turn off the stove and come to the bedroom.” You create some space between you as you remove your shirt. “The seats on the plane were really uncomfortable, and I have knots all over my body that need to be worked out.”

Steven’s eyes light up. He moves so fast across the apartment, you’re afraid he’s going to crash straight on his face. As Steven rushes back to you, his hands snatch your waist and lift you up and onto the mattress, his body serving like a cage has he hovers over you. You slip off his glasses and put them on the nightstand before his lips attach to the sweet spot on your neck, eliciting a moan from you. Not only does he know what that spot does to you regularly, but the sensation of his beard drives you wild as the hairs scrape against your skin. 

Like well-rehearsed actors in a play, you shed each other of your clothes, your hands caressing each other’s body while Steven’s lips take extra liberties along your skin.

“I missed you, too,” you breathe as Steven’s lips latch onto your breasts, worshiping the supple, fatty flesh. You squeak as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin, giving each boob careful and devoted attention before his lips place sloppy, wet kisses down your stomach. Steven spreads your legs open, places alternating, lingering kisses on the inner flesh of your thighs before he reaches your middle.

“Tap my hand if it feels uncomfortable, alright?” he tells you.

“I promise,” you affirm.

You take a sharp breath in as his tongue licks along your folds before his lips capture your throbbing nub as he sucks on it. The beard isn’t as uncomfortable as Steven probably anticipated—his hair is just so soft, it feels nice and plush, ticklish at most. Your body is too focused on other sensations to process the tickle, as your hips squirm at the movements of his mouth. The way that Steven moves from increasing his pace to slowing it down makes your head spin, and he leaves you on edge the entire time, pressing one fat kiss on your throbbing clit as he moves away.

“Oh, damn,” you chuckle breathlessly as he slides up from between your legs, the evidence of my extreme arousal glistening in his beard. Just as you think he’s hovering over your body to kiss you and let you taste your arousal, he flips you over, his hands on your hips as he guides your ass into the air.

“Steven!” you giggle, completely surprised by the action.

“I’m trying somethin’ a bit different tonight, love,” he tells you, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Steven leans down over your back, kissing a line right down your spine from your neck to your tailbone. You can hear him drag his hand across his mouth moments before you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance.

“Ah,” you moan as he begins to press into you from behind. Every inch he puts in feels better than the last, and once he has bottomed out, he leans forward and peppers kisses all along your back and your shoulder blades.

“You look so lovely from this angle,” he praises, his hot breath and beard sending goosebumps all over your body. “So beautiful.”

“Steven,” you groan as he begins to rock into your body. “Oh my God.”

“Oh wow,” he pants, finding a steady rhythm. “Oh wow, you feel so good like this. Oh, you’re gonna be the death of me, love.”

His hands gently caress your waist, hips, and rear, unsure of where they should settle. Steven surprises you, keeping his left hand just above your hip bone as the other one gathers your hair in his fist. The slight yank at the roots of your hair is encouraging, causing you to tilt your head back just enough to arch your back and feel Steven in a new way. He must feel it too, because the groan that escapes his mouth is purely carnal. Letting go of your hair, he wraps an arm right under your bouncing breasts and lifts you up so your back is flush against his chest and he has access to the skin of your neck.

“Oh, Steven, yes,” you breathe, straining your neck to kiss whatever skin of his face you can find. “Right there.” The phrase turns into a chant, a chant into a prayer. With each utterance, he manages to hit deeper into you, and you relish the sensation. Sneaking his fingers down to your front, two of his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves. You let out a high pitched moan as he kisses your shoulder. “Steven, I want to see your face. Please, baby, I want to see you when I come.”

Steven moves his kisses up your body until his lips hover just over your ear. 

“I’m gonna lie you down, okay, love?” he whispers.

You pant as you give him sort, quick nods. He pulls out and you feel empty, your body aching for Steven. He carefully puts you on the mattress, spreading your legs wide as he lines himself up to your entrance. He doesn’t push as slowly in you as he did the first time, but slow enough so he can admire how you look below him. One of his hands caresses your cheek, and you turn your face into it to press a kiss to his palm. Your moans harmonize as he bottoms out in you once more, leaning down to kiss you and rest his forehead against yours as he resumes the pace from the position on his knees. His hand slips in between your bodies, the pads of his fingers once more finding your clit and giving it a good rubbing. With Steven touching you like this, looking at you with nothing but tenderness in his eyes, and him looking like something straight from a fantasy is enough as you feel the band snap in your stomach, allowing you to come around him while he thrusts. Your grip and erotic cries encourage him to move faster towards his own release, and he continues to pound into you as far as he can as he finishes. You both stay like this catching your breath, how you always do after you find your release with one another. 

“I missed you so much,” he hums punctuating each word with a kiss.

“I missed you more,” you counter, pressing a long kiss to his plush lips.

Steven chases another kiss, a hand holding the side of your face to keep you there as he slides out and lies next to you.

“So, what do you think?” he asks, still panting slightly. “Is the beard here to stay?”

“If you want it to. The change is exciting, but I think I’ll miss that smooth jaw of yours eventually.” Steven presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck and jaw. “Although, if Donna ever gets that stick out of her ass and promotes you to tour guide, you might need to keep it. You ooze sexy academia right now.”

“Oh, is that it?” Steven laughs. 

“Mm, yeah,” you confirm. “You look so wise and smart and sexy and smart.”

“You said smart twice."

“Because you are. And I would have said sexy more than once, but I think by virtue of me being naked in your bed in your arms gets that point across pretty well.”

The smile that pulls on Steven’s face makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. Every time you think you can’t fall more in love with this man, he proves you wrong with things like this.

“I love you,” you tell him. “So much.”

“I love you, too,” he hums kissing you neck as he sharply inhales. “I second that motion.” Marc.

“Hi,” you chuckle as he continues to press kisses on your skin. “I love you, too.”

“Mm, I’m feeling a little more needy than that,” he whispers, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, dragging his beard along your skin in a way that he knows gives you goosebumps. “Did Steven tucker you out?”

You look over at his face, brushing the tip of your nose against his. 

“It’d be rude to reject the welcome wagon, wouldn’t it? Especially when it looks has handsome as my men do.”

Marc smiles briefly before his lips attach to yours, and the way that his hands grip onto your waist let you know that the welcome wagon will be making several stops with Steven and Marc as the conductors.

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[moonluvin]

bite marks - steven grant.

pairing: dark!steven grant x female reader

summary: in which y/n starts receiving mystery packages from a stranger – not that she minds it since its stuff that she likes. however, things take a turn when a seemingly kind face reveals more than you would expect.

warnings: angst, fluff & smut (holy trinity).

a/n: happy reading!

word count: 3.4k words

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlist

For several weeks you found bouquet of flowers on your doorstep. You were instantly delighted, as you had never received flowers before. It didn't take long for you to realize that someone was watching you.

That someone had maintained a fair distance from you but was close enough to observe you. He kept a book in which he made notes of your likes and dislikes, so far, he had written up quite a detailed profile on you.

As expected, another bouquet of flowers had been left on your doorstep, this time it was accompanied by a note – something which did not occur before.

Curiously, you wasted no time in reading the note.

‘like a moth to a blame, i can't help but feel drawn to your presence.’

It had no name signed to it, just a vague note.

A twisted part of you enjoyed the attention you received as you clutched the note to your chest and smiled briefly.

All the while you were completely oblivious to the stare on you.

Today, a day just like any other, had a slight change. A man, whom you don’t know the name of had walked into the café you worked at and had a nervous exchange when ordering his drink of choice.

“Steven,” you called out his name and waited for said mystery man to collect his drink. He avoided eye contact and said a little ‘thank you’ before walking to a secluded corner and situating himself there with a book.

You smiled at the sight and continued your workday as usual.

You enjoyed your line of work as it allowed you to indulge in two activities you liked. Meeting people and baking.

Steven had found solace in his little corner with a few glances your way. He didn’t want to be obvious since he was used to watching you from the shadows but watching you in your place of comfort made it almost impossible to keep his gaze away from you.

“Interesting choice,” you said as you cleaned the table next to him.

Your voice surprised him.

He looked at the book in his hand and then back at you.

“I’m actually rereadin’ it,” he said as calmly as he could.

“Oh? You enjoyed it that much?” you said with interest.

The book he had been trying to reread was “Persuasion” by Jane Austen.

“I certainly did,” he said with a smile.

He already knew of your interest in reading and took the initiative to read all books you have read in order to understand you better. Due to his observations of you, it was easy to pick up on your habits and on the fact that you’re unconscious of your surroundings.

You smiled at his reply and politely excused yourself to the kitchen.

Steven’s heart had been beating rapidly for the entire exchange the two of you had. It may have been small, but to him it was the perfect way to insert himself into your life.

Your everyday life has now consisted of friendly exchanges with Steven on the basis of books and the occasional walk home from him when he waited for you to close up the café.

The flowers from your admirer had not stopped, however, they had now become something you get occasionally.

On this particular day you had been living life as usual when Steven walked in with the sweet smile he had reserved for you, in his hand was his copy of ‘Persuasion’.

He sat at his usual place and waited for you to approach him, as you did so, he wasted no time in nervously babbling to you.

“I know this isn’t the most appropriate way to do this since you’re at work and all, but I would love to take you on a date if you would like to go on one?” he said all in one go and if it weren’t for you being used to taking note of everything your customers say then you wouldn’t have understood him.

Steven avoided eye contact with you the more you remained silent, and he had begun to think that maybe asking you on a date at work was a bad idea.

“I would love to,”

All worry he was feeling had dissipated and he looked with you with a toothy grin.

“You would?” he said slightly surprised.

You nodded in response and smiled at him.

He seemed to grasp his surroundings and returned your smile as he recited that he would have his usual drink. Before you left to prepare his order, he handed you his copy of Persuasion.

“I wanted you to have this,” he said, making a point to maintain eye contact with you.

You were about to protest when he spoke up again.

“Its an annotated copy with notes I made specifically for you,”

As soon as he said that you knew you couldn’t refuse it. So, you took the copy with a soft thank you and went on to tend to his order.

Following that exchange between you and Steven, the two of you had quickly fell into a relationship where everything seemed natural. Especially with Steven’s efforts towards you.

Upon making things official, you had told him about the flowers you received previously, to which he assured you that it was okay, and he would take care of it if you wanted him to.

Very quickly 3 months had passed by, and it was filled with pure bliss. Steven being a new addition to your life had made it a happy wonderland.

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” you heard him ask aloud from your kitchen.

“I’m good thanks,” you assured him as he walked into your living room.

A recent activity the two of you shared was reading in the company of each other and annotating the books for one another. Which is what the two of you were currently doing.

You watched his reaction as you pulled out a book you knew he would be surprised to see.

His eyes slightly widened upon seeing the title and his eyes made their way to you.

“Interestin’ book you’ve got there,” he said, his voice sounding lower than before.

“You think so? I thought I’d give it a try,” you said feigning innocence.

“You should, I’ve heard tha’ its quite detailed,”

“You’ve heard of it?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Of course, I have,” is all he said before opening his own book and reading it.

You took it as a sign that he didn’t want to go further with the conversation.

Throughout the night, Steven had noticed the way you would slightly clench your thighs as your eyes skimmed through the book. It was easy for him to pick up on the fact that you were turned on by what you were reading.

He knew this from the many nights he’d seen you touch yourself. You of course were not aware of your audience, not that he would want you to know that.

Even though your relationship with Steven was only 3 months in, sexual activities between the two of you were not a main concern, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t time where either of you got carried away while making out.

He made it known to you that he wanted to take things slow, and you never questioned him because you respected his wishes. The actual reason he wanted to take things slow was because he wanted to enjoy your company before finally indulging in you. It was all part of his plan.

On a day which was just like any other, you were cleaning up your bookshelf when you realised a particular book of yours was missing. It had been one you read a long time ago and you had specifically put it in a place only you knew of.

You brushed off your concern and chalked it down to you simply misplacing it.

The weather outside had been rainy, but not the calm drizzle you were used to, instead it was storming. Steven had stated he had difficulty in coming to see you and you of course understood this and told him you’d see him tomorrow.

Just as you were about to walk into the kitchen to wash the dishes from earlier, the lights went out. You huffed out a sigh and began looking for candles in order to see properly in the dark.

A sound coming from your living room heightened your senses as you stayed stark still.

You were the only one home, so the noise was unusual to say the least.

With a candle in hand, you softly made your way towards where the noise came from. The rational part of your mind was screaming to leave it alone and retreat to the safety of your room. However, your curiosity had got the best of you.

A book was face down on the floor as you looked around for the source of the noise, you picked it up and turned it around to look at the cover.

It was the missing book. That missing book.

A burning feeling of fear in your chest made you turn around to go to your room, but the figure in the shadows did not allow that.

The stranger’s hand had clasped its way around your mouth to prevent your from screaming whilst the other had pulled you towards him and gripped both your hands in his to avoid you from getting away.

It was by sheer luck that the candle you were holding fell and the flame was put out instantly.

Now, you were in the darkness of your own home while a stranger held you prisoner in his hold.

You felt the vibration of his chuckle as he held you.

“You can’t get away from me,” he said maliciously.

Your eyes widened in shock, and you tried to push your way out of his hold.

“You made it so easy f’me,” he stated as he dragged you towards your room.

He knew his way around your home, which didn’t register in your mind yet since you were trying to get away from him.

That’s when an idea popped into your mind.

You bit down as hard as you could, and he hissed in pain. Before you could scream, he used some type of material to stop you from screaming.

“Don’t make me do things I’ll later regret,” he warned as he stopped to make a point to you.

You complied out of fear and let him take you to your room.

With the absence of electricity, it made it difficult for you to make out the face of the man.

He carefully restrained your hands and made you sit on your bed facing him. You’d assume in a situation such as this you would be scared, but you didn’t exactly know what you felt. Maybe it was the adrenaline.

“If you listen t’me, then we can make things easy,” he stated.

You quirked a brow at him but nodded in compliance. The last thing you wanted was to make him angry.

“I don’t want any funny business, if you try anything against what I’m saying then I’m goin’ to have to use this,”

The little bit of light from outside allows you to see the knife he’s holding in his hand.

You feel a familiar throb between your legs at his words.

“Move more up,” he indicates to your bed, and you move up further to provide him with space to sit at the edge and watch you.

“Did you enjoy getting the flowers from me?”

Of course, it had to be the mystery man who had been sending you flowers.

“I assume you now don’t like them as much since you’re too busy giving time to someone else,” he said with a hint of a smile.

You want to speak and let him know that you missed receiving the flowers, but it occurred to you in that moment that this was a complete stranger to you. So, why did you feel the need to validate the way he felt?

“You may be thinking I don’t know a thing about you, but I know more than anyone else in your life,” he chuckled darkly and looked to the side before facing you again.

“I know all about the dark fantasies tha’ roam around tha’ mind of yours. The fear you feel by thinking about them but also the enjoyment you get,”

You tensed at his words; your thoughts were your own. Something only you were aware of.

He stood up from the bed and pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs open in the process, you were about to force them closed when he grazed the blade of the knife from your ankle all the way up to your thighs.

Your arms were still restrained in front of you as he began to train the blade towards your neck. Your eyes never left his, even if you couldn’t see them in the dark.

He was enjoying the willingness you were showing him.

“Be a good girl,” he said while using both hands to carefully cut your shirt in the middle. You felt the coolness of the air on your bare chest once he finished.

He stared at you for a moment and contemplated his choices.

“I’m goin’ to allow you to speak, but the moment you do anythin’ out of line. You know the consequences,”

You looked from the reflected blade to his shadowy figure and nodded.

He removed the piece of material from your mouth and waited for you to scream, when you didn’t, he disregarded the material and took hold of your hands by gripping them.

Your hands were above your head on the bed while he straddled you and his face was in line with yours.

“All you have to say is no,” he assured you.

Its funny how he gives you that choice after what his already done.

You thought for a moment, head foggy with thoughts and nodded.

A ghost of a smile made its way to his face.

“You’re a very bold person,” he said before kissing your neck and caging you between his body and the bed. His one hand still remained by keeping your above your head while the other grasped your breast, kneading the flesh and causing you to slight moan.

“You like tha’?” he asked with a chuckle.

You nodded and looked to his lips, as a way of asking him to kiss you.

“Use your words,” he insisted.

“Yes. I liked that,”

He pecked your lips and sat up briefly to take off his own shirt. You laid there and watched him with wanting eyes.

For a moment he stepped away from the bed and tugged at the waist band of your pants till they were off, next to be disregarded were your underwear.

He soon returned to kissing you, but his hand trailed down your body till they were between your legs, feeling your arousal.

“Someone seems to enjoy having a stranger do such things to them,” he chuckled darkly and began to draw little circles on your clit, making you bite your lip to stop your moans from being heard.

“I want to hear you,” he insisted and added more pressure to his fingers on your clit. Your moan of pleasure gave him the validation he so desperately wanted to hear.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as he sucked on one of your breasts.

He hummed in acknowledgement and continued his little game of pleasure.

Slowly, he made his way down your body till you felt his tongue teasing your clit.

You went to move your still restrained hands.

“Keep your hands where they were,” he warned and looked up at you.

You complied and spread your legs more for him.

He took his time with teasing your clit, using his fingers to spread you so he could suck on your clit and spread your arousal.

“You’re so wet,” he said with a teasing tone.

“Please,” you begged, not knowing exactly what you wanted.

You felt two of his fingers at your entrance as he stimulated you by still sucking on your clit. He set a comfortable pace, his fingers motioning them in a way that has you almost seeing stars.

You feel yourself going towards that feeling of euphoria and as you clench around his fingers, he stops.

“Not yet,” he said with a chuckle.

You whine in protest but silence yourself once he moves. He removes whatever remaining pieces of clothing he has and situates himself on the bed and pulls you on top of him to straddle him and removes the restraints from your hands.

“Ride me,” he says almost like a plea, which surprises you.

You settle one hand on his shoulder to balance yourself as you guide him into you. As you slowly sink down into his lap, you both gasp at the feeling of each other. He kisses you and pulls your body closer to his. Your hips begin to move on their own accord as you continue to kiss each other.

“Just like tha’,” he praises as he breaks the kiss and looks at you.

Breasts slightly bouncing with the motion of your hips. Out of habit you bite your lip, but soon grip his neck to make him look at you before you kiss him.

Something about him feels so familiar, but any rational thoughts you have are consumed by the feeling of him. A stranger who is making you feel things you’ve only read about.

You continue to kiss him and feel his one hands trail between you and him. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your clit and soon that familiar build up of euphoria is felt in the pit of your tummy.

“You gonna cum f’me?” his tone was demanding yet still held desperation in them.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you admit and start to move your hips even more.

“Then cum,” he demands, and like the good girl that you are, you cum.

You moan into the kiss and ride out your orgasm, only stopping when you become too sensitive.

He chuckles when you slump against him.

“We’re not done yet,”

He braces you against him and soon your back is on the bed, and he is now above you, his cock still inside you.

In the middle of you gaining your conscious thoughts back, you see him take the knife from before and hold it against your neck.

The feeling of the cool metal makes you gasp.

“I’m not goin’ to hurt you,” he assures you, and somehow you know you can trust him.

He begins to thrust into you at a slow pace, leaning over to kiss you every now and then while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. The blade is still held against your neck. The wetness from your previous orgasm makes it easy for him to thrust into you.

You hear him curse under his breath every few moments, and you know he’s having an internal battle with wanting to thrust into you harshly.

“Do it,” you tell him.

He hums in confusion.

“Fuck me faster, stop holding back,” you tell him.

That was all he needed to hear before you felt him begin to increase the pace in thrusts and the force of his hips were now more brutal than before. He was chasing own high, but at the same time. He was ensuring you felt it just as much. You felt him kissing your neck and without warning, you felt his teeth sink into your neck. The pain causing a sense of pleasure.

“Rub your clit,” he says through gritted teeth.

You do as he says and clench around him at the overstimulation. With a few more thrusts, he’s cumming inside of you and while you cum at the same time. You’re both breathing heavily. You lay there and stare at the ceiling above you, the rational thoughts finally making their way back to you.

A stranger just fucked you in your bed, and you willingly let him do so. Your thoughts were interrupted by said stranger pulling you towards him and kissing you on the forehead. The pain from the bite mark still lingered on your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, y/n. Tha’ was so good,”

That’s when it hits you. That voice.

“Steven?”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Secrets That Whisper & Shout

Pairing: Moonknight trio (Steven mainly) x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: idk brief mentions of violence

Genre: fluff & minor angst

Summary: you are extremely intrigued by your neighbor and the voices you can sometimes hear in his head because of course your neighbor seems extra susceptible to your powers

***

It's an interesting way to live life, being able to see into people's minds. To alter their memories, control their actions, hear their deepest inner thoughts even if you're not trying to sometimes. It can be weird but you just try your best to live your life normally. Right now the biggest hindrance to your delicate balance of normal is your neighbor. He lives across the hall for you and unfortunately, for some reason, you keep finding yourself inside his mind. It happens when you let your mental guard down for a little too long. You've always compared people's minds to houses, or offices full of filing cabinets, your powers give you a key basically but it seems like your dorky neighbor's mental door is never closed let alone locked.

The weirder part is what you hear when you do find yourself in his mind. For most people, the voice in their head sounds like them- and while you've never really spoken to your neighbor, you know for a fact there's no way he's simultaneously a nervous Brit, a cocky American, and a grumpy Spanish speaker. There are three voices in his head as opposed to one, they speak to each other and seem entirely independent of one another. You haven't intentionally done any snooping in his mind but you can imagine his mental filing cabinets are entirely different than any you've been in. It's not really your business though so you never look into it. No matter how curious you are about how and why he has three voices in his head. 

You know very little about your neighbor. From accidentally listening to his mental debates you think his name is Steven. The other voices have names too but you're unclear who is who because you've never stuck around long enough to discern that. He's not very social and only leaves his apartment for work or errands. He hardly ever takes phone calls and he never really calls anyone- except, around the time you moved in he used to call his mom pretty often but you think she never answered and eventually, those calls stopped. The strangest detail you've realized is sometimes he'll sneak out of his apartment, through the window and you have no idea where he goes or what he does but he's always back within a week. You don't mean to keep tabs on him, sometimes you cast your magic out to scan for threats and you'll notice the lack of presence in the apartment across the hall.

He's a curious case, your neighbor across the hall, and today you've decided you're going to bite the bullet and speak to him. Your curiosity about him is the main reason and you hope that being able to assign personhood to the voices you hear will quell it even a bit. You cross the hall and knock on his door confidently before you can convince yourself not to on one Saturday afternoon when you know he's home. You checked first. There's some shuffling on the other side of the door and eventually, it opens a bit hesitantly but it opens.

"Hi! My name is y/n. I live across the hall from you." You say, your chosen tone is friendly but soft.

"I'm- Steven. Can I help you?" He asks sizing you up.

"I hope so! I was baking cookies and even though I went to the store before I started I guess I didn't make a complete list of things I needed because it turns out I actually don't have enough sugar so I was just wondering if you had any I could borrow by chance?" You ask. You are baking, but you also definitely have enough sugar, it just seemed like the simplest way to initiate conversation. A bit cliche but it's a classic for a reason.

"You want to borrow sugar?"

"Yes. A cup if you have it." You hold up your measuring cup with a smile. Steven pauses for a moment before he answers.

"Sure. I've got some. Come on in I'll pour some for you." He says walking into his apartment. You follow him in glancing around. The studio style flat is full of books littered everywhere, it's the first thing you notice when you walk in. Steven takes the measuring cup from you and quickly grabs his container of sugar to pour some.

"Thanks so much! I'll bring by some cookies to repay you!" You tell him.

"Oh, no thank you. I appreciate the offer but I am vegan and I'm sure you don't intend to bake vegan-friendly cookies so-" He trails off with a shrug. You frown but make a note of the information. He's vegan. "I've never seen you before." He says after a moment while he puts up his bag of sugar.

"That's probably because you don't leave much besides for work. I've lived across you for over a year." You muse.

"Hey! I- I leave!" He turns to look at you.

"To do your laundry at the witching hour when you're the least likely to run into people?" You smirk a bit at him.

"No." He huffs.

"Thanks for the sugar, Steven. Hope to see you around more." You toss over your shoulder as you walk back into your apartment.

You do make a handful of vegan cookies for your neighbor, even though it wasn't your plan, after checking to find that it really is just a couple of minor changes, vegetable oil instead of butter, water or nondairy milk instead of eggs, and since you don't already have vegan chocolate you leave out the chocolate chips- at least according to the recipe you found. They're basically sugar cookies and you only make six for Steven, some of which you sprinkle with cinnamon to make up for their plainness, but you imagine they're a decent thanks for the sugar you borrowed- even if it was a ploy.

A couple of hours later, you knock on Steven's door again, this time with a small Tupperware container for the cookies you made him. He opens it again with the same confused frown after a few moments.

"Hi again! I know you said not to bother with the cookies because you're vegan but I wanted to say thanks anyway so- I adjusted my recipe to accommodate. They're sugar cookies except two of them are cinnamon, I wasn't sure if you like cinnamon so I didn't make them all cinnamon but the cookies are vegan. So, thank you, for the sugar." You say handing him the plastic container.

"You adjusted your recipe so that I could have some cookies?" Steven doesn't seem to believe the words even as he says them.

"Yes. I know you said I didn't have to bring any but I wanted to anyway. Since I did use your sugar to make them."

"Thank you. I appreciate the effort. I can't wait to try them."

"If you ever need anything, just knock." You tell him and wait for his cautious nod. "I'll be seeing you." You say leaving without waiting for him to agree with that statement. From then on, Steven does in fact make a point to speak to you more often. The first time is a couple of days later, he runs into you in the elevator and tells you he enjoyed the cookies. He'll definitely speak to you when he sees you around the building but it's on you to actually make plans if you want to see him otherwise and sometimes you do. You invite him out to lunch, have him over for tea, suggest movies to watch together, you even visit him at work every once in a while. The first time you went to his job you didn't even know he worked there, I mean he'd told you he worked at a museum but you never thought to ask which one, but once you knew he worked there you definitely made a point to pop in and say hi when you're around and he's working. It takes a while but you manage to build a pretty good friendship with him over the next few months to the point where you're hanging out a couple of times a week these days. In fact, he's supposed to be over later today to show you some movie he's been dying for you to see. For now, you're sitting on your couch reading a novel until he gets here. It'll be another few hours before he comes knocking at your door. 

You've really enjoyed getting to know him, more than you expected to honestly. He's as sweet and awkward as he comes off at first glance but there's something endearing about his gentle shyness even when he's raving about whatever thing has most recently captured his attention. You find yourself looking forward to the time you spend together more than you like to admit. You have no idea if your fondness is reciprocated to the same extent and you also have no idea how to broach the subject with him. Much like a skittish animal, you're always careful about how you make changes to your dynamic. It's something you try not to dwell on, if he likes you or if you'll tell him you like him and how to do so, things are good between you two and as they say, if it ain't broke don't fix it. 

Your head snaps up at the sudden rush of fear you sense. The book in your lap long forgotten anyway as you had been lost in your thoughts until the dread you felt in your very bones pulled you from them. It's not your own though, that panic, and you have to take a moment to pinpoint the source. You gasp when you realize it's coming from Steven. It's been a while since you felt someone's feelings so uninhibited and you rush out of your apartment before you can even consider a plan. He must be in trouble for you to feel his alarm this way. When you reach for his doorhandle you hear some sort of crashing sound inside and you force open his apartment door to find Steven evading someone attempting to corner him in the apartment.

"Steven!" You gasp when the masked intruder chucks some sort of dagger at him.

"Y/n?! Get out of here!" Steven shouts at you from behind the couch. You ignore him and charge the attacker by launching yourself using Steven's side table. The attacker can't react quickly enough to the kick that you aim directly at their chest and they go down hard. You don't give the stranger a chance to get up and strike either of you, taking advantage of their disoriented state you slip into their mind, 'suggesting' that they leave and forget they ever came here, forget Steven even exists and forget you while you're at it. When the masked assailant stands again they climb out of the window they came through without saying a word.

"Are you alright Steven?" You frown turning your attention to where he's frowning from behind his kitchen counter. When did he move behind the kitchen counter?

"What just happened?" He blinks at you.

"I am- a magical being of sorts-"

"Like a witch?"

"Something like that. I mean- I can do magic in the more traditional sense, like spells and such but most of my powers are telepathic. I can read minds and alter memories, reshape reality-"

"What?" You hardly register Steven's shocked exclamation.

"I mean that can take a lot of energy depending on the scale, like I obviously can't do it for everyone, everywhere, at the same time but like- I could say, make it look and feel like there are spiders all over this room." You shrug.

"Why would you ever-"

"Arachnids are a common phobia, it's gotten me out of some touchy situations." You say.

"That doesn't explain what just happened though." Steven shakes his head.

"Oh, I can control people if it comes down to it. I just- made the person leave and forget you exist."

"You can do what?!" His eyes widen.

"I don't use it! Usually. I've only done it a couple of times to protect myself or someone who really needed it." You shrug.

"And your protection was to force someone to do something else against their will?!"

"Hey, that person was literally trying to kill you! I could've taken the violent route instead but I'm not a fan of it!"

"So that man-"

"Doesn't remember being here, doesn't remember attacking you, doesn't even remember you exist. You're safe." You say.

"Holy shit."

"Look I wanted to be honest with you because I care about you but if this is too much for you to handle then- I will leave all I ask is that you keep my secret to yourself."

"You won't just... take it from me?"

"I don't want to. And I won't, unless that information in your hands becomes a threat to my life."

"Have you ever used them on me? Your powers?" He asks. You pause for a moment considering how to answer. Admittedly he doesn't seem to be taking all this super well, you wonder if it would be worse to just say no but looking at him you can't bring yourself to tell the lie.

"I have. Not- on purpose and nothing altering. No mind control or memory changing or reality reshaping- absolutely nothing that changed anything about you it's just that sometimes your thoughts are loud. You yell in your head a lot- in several voices. Sometimes I can hear them." You explain.

"You can hear them? The different voices?"

"Yes. I don't quite understand it but I never snooped I just- would leave when I realized it was happening again." You say.

"I think you should go." Steven says avoiding your gaze. Your shoulders drop for a moment that you're sure he doesn't see.

"I see. Alright but Steven-"

"Your secret is yours. I won't tell anybody." He says quietly. You nod although he's still not looking directly at you.

"Okay. If you need anything- my door's open. Otherwise, take care- Steven." You say and exit his apartment before he can respond. Steven's reaction hurts more than you'd like it to, you suppose you wouldn't have been able to keep the secret from him forever though. It would've come out eventually, especially if you got any closer to him as you had considered. 

The next two weeks are weird. Steven doesn't text you, or call you, or come over for tea or lunch, you make a point not to visit him at work as you are positive he's avoiding you based on the fact that he's clearly adjusted all of his habits so as to not run into to you around the apartment building. That- you think stings more than his initial reaction. To think he was so put out by your revelation that he no longer wanted to even risk seeing you... Whatever, you wouldn't dwell on it. The world keeps spinning. A sudden knock on your door interrupts you before you can focus back on what you were working on. With a confused frown, you walk over to the door and look through the spyhole to see Steven standing in the hall, and that surprises you immensely. For on that knock was sharp and harsh in a way you've never heard Steven knock on anything ever, but also for him to just show up at your door after 2 weeks is... unexpected. You pull open the door and lean casually against the frame.

"Hello." He nods and you immediately notice he does not sound like himself. You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Steven? Hi. What are you doing here? And- why are you talking funny?"

"I'm not Steven my name is Marc Spector." He says.

"Did you hit your head or something?" You snort crossing your arms in confusion.

"No? I'm perfectly fine."

"Right except your name isn't Marc Spector it's Steven Grant. Unless you've been lying to me since we met which- would certainly be interesting but I don't think that's what's happening here." You say.

"Not quite. See we have a... condition-"

"Do not tell me about what's wrong with your body!" You put your hands up to stop him.

"It's psychological." He says.

"Oh okay. Proceed." You say.

"It's called dissociative identity disorder. My mind is- fractured. Essentially this body houses more than one consciousness." He explains.

"This sounds very Jekyll and Hyde and if you're coming to me to say you're a serial killer I don't-" You trail off when suddenly something clicks. "Holy shit you're one of the voices in Steven's head!" You gasp. You knew he sounded familiar but you didn't pinpoint it until just now.

"First of all, it's my head okay I am the original. Secondly- Steven told you about us?!"

"If he did do you think I would sound as confused as I do right now? No, he didn't tell me anything. I just realized why I recognize your voice." You say.

"Recognize my voice?" Now he's looking at you like you're crazy.

"I can hear you sometimes. You are quite loud- especially compared to the other one."

"You can hear us?" His eyes are wide as saucers.

"Yes, never on purpose though. I'm a telepath. I can read minds and change memories and alter reality and stuff like that so- sometimes I can hear you- which by the way we still haven't answered the billion dollar question why are you here?"

"Steven has been moping around for over a week now and every time we force him to leave he looks longingly at your door so I came to find out what the hell you did to him because I swear-"

"I didn't do anything to him. I told him I was a telepath and he freaked. He's been avoiding me since. All on his own. And before you start throwing around threats I'll warn you Marc Spector that I could take hold of your entire fractured little mind without even breaking a sweat. So tread carefully if you're going to start swearing things." Your eyes narrow at him.

"He's been avoiding you?" He blinks.

"We talked about my powers, he asked me to leave, and so I did. Probably assumes I'll take advantage of him using them or something." You shrug.

"Well you did just threaten me."

"It wasn't a threat it was a warning. Besides I'd never hurt Steven, you I don't know and you did start a pretty menacing sentence that prompted me to- never mind."

"Now I'm confused. If he's avoiding you, why is he moping around the apartment?" He frowns.

"You're asking me. You're the one that shares a body with him." You say.

"Explain to me exactly what went down?"

"I was in my apartment and someone attacked Steven- I don't know who or why but could feel it so I went over to help and I used my powers to get rid of them."

"What'd you do? Launch him out the window?"

"No? I just made him forget about us and where he was but when he mindlessly climbed back out the way he came in without attacking us I obviously had to explain some things. I guess Steven didn't take it all that well." You shrug.

"That doesn't sound right. I think you should talk to him."

"I- don't think he wants to do that." You shake your head.

"No. No, this has gone on long enough. Hang on." Marc says.

"Marc seriously mind your-"

"Y/n?" He grimaces. You recognize immediately that it's Steven you're talking to now.

"Steven- one the uh- voices? Marc? He thinks we need to have a conversation. Does he make a habit of meddling in your life this way?"

"Less often than you might think but- I do owe you an apology." His head drops.

"What for, exactly?"

"How I- handled things before. I was... cold, it's just that when you said you could hear Marc and Jake I was worried about what else you-"

"I'm sorry, who is Jake?" You shake your head at him.

"The identity disorder thing- there are three of us as far as we know. Myself, Marc, and Jake." Steven says and you nod as you piece it together.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to guess that Marc and Jake are not your only secrets?"

"No actually. Marc is an avatar."

"Of what?" You ask. Steven's shocked confusion prompts you to fill in the gaps, "I've met avatars for each of the sins so, one of those maybe? Or a celestial body of some sort? The moon perhaps- I'm guessing you don't mean in the same sense as the cartoon boy because people with elemental manipulation do not refer to themselves that way in real life so-"

"Khonshu." Steven says when you trail.

"What?"

"He's- Khonshu's avatar."

"Egyptian God. Interesting. Correct me if I'm wrong he's the god of justice, right?"

"That's right." He nods.

"So the guy that was attacking you a few weeks ago was probably mad at him for- something related to that."

"Most likely. Can't imagine a museum guest putting a hit out on me for not having any more pyramid pens or something." Steven scratches the back of his neck and you chuckle a bit at his joke.

"Interesting."

"Look- that day, I wasn't sure if this was something I was ready to tell you. I've never told anyone this before, the only person that knows is Marc's ex-wife, so when you said you could hear our thoughts I was worried you knew more than just that there were voices in my head and- I'm sorry." Steven trails off with a sigh.

"So- what changed? Why are you telling me now?"

"Well Marc revealed himself to you." Steven says. "But more than that I just- really hate not being able to talk to you. I like my life way more with you in it but I- after how I reacted I sort of figured I'd earned my misery, that I didn't deserve your forgiveness because when you chose to trust me with your secrets I turned you away, I even judged you, instead showing literally any modicum of support of the person I care about. I made an ass of myself."

"I wasn't upset with you, you know. I mean as far as shitty reactions go yours doesn't even make the top 5. You didn't tell the apartment building to gather their pitchforks so- I count that as a win." You shrug.

"I would never-"

"I know." You nod. "While we're- confessing our sins anything else you wanna share?" You ask with a chuckle. Steven holds your gaze for a long moment and there's a brief second where you consider finding out for yourself what he's contemplating so hard, you won't of course, but the silence drags long enough to make you want to rescind the question. Eventually, Steven's hand grabs your arm and yanks you towards him. His eyes are so wide at the action you'd think he's not the one who pulled you but before you can ask him about it his lips are on yours. The kiss is short and a bit unsure but his mouth is soft against yours and when he pulls away still with that wide-eyed look you do nothing but blink at him for a moment.

"I- I'm so sorry that was- I mean Marc was- I didn't plan- I wasn't going to-"

"Steven." You place your hand against his cheek to halt his frazzled rambling. "Did you want to kiss me?" You ask.

"I've wanted to kiss you for months." He breathes.

"Then don't apologize. I've wanted to kiss you too."

"Really?"

"Yes so- I think I'm going to do it again." You say pausing long enough to give him an out. When his eyes flutter closed you take that as your sign to lean forward and connect your lips again. You're sure in that moment you could do this forever and you silently wish to whatever powers above that you'll have that long to do it as many times as you wish.

***

A/N: I'm thinking of turning this into an anthology (like There is No Right Way) of the moonknight trio dating a telepath because I think it would be interesting idk- anyone interested in more of this dynamic?

[jayke0]

Just some Steven loving tiddies drabble.

Warnings/content: fluff, flashing boobs, touching boobs, just lots of boob talk.

...........................................................................

Steven's not very good at hiding his love for your chest. He'd have his hands replace your bra 24/7 if it was physically possible.

It's not all sexual, because he also loves the fact that he can rest on you when he's had a particularly difficult day. Your boobs are like his very own pillows with a built in heartbeat that sends him to sleep in minutes.

However, it'd be foolish to assume that the man couldn't get off to your tits alone, and you're pretty sure he has on the multiple occasions when you've been away and sent him a few "i miss you" texts with attachments of your chest. He constantly tells you how much he adores them; adores sucking on them and squeezing them and sliding his weeping cock between them… you're pretty sure he could come up with endless ways to enjoy you.

Of course he loves the rest of you, but your boobs are his favourite.

When Steven had arrived home, you could tell that he was on the verge of tears, overstimulated from the long day of dealing with Donna and ungrateful customers yelling at him. You'd made him a lovely vegan dinner to fill his tummy and given him lots of cuddles, but he still seemed a little antsy.

" 'm sorry love, i know you're just tryna help, i appreciate it." He mumbles sadly as he buries his face deeper in your side, his arms wrapped around your body tightly.

You run your fingers through his curls with a frown. What else could possibly make him happy? You'd even put on his favourite Ancient Egypt documentary series that he's watched at least 20 times. A thought seeps into your mind as you lean forward to look over your tits at him.

Patting his shoulder, you scoot over to get up from your sitting position under the guise of getting a drink. You bring your glass with you and stand in front of the tv, making Steven frown.

"What's wrong, love? I'm-"

The man's protests are cut short when you lift your shirt and bra, letting your boobs drop as you stare at him with a soft smirk. You notice how his eyes seem to glaze over and his jaw drops open a little, eyes wracking over your chest and tummy while his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

"What's this for? Did you do something bad?" He chuckles softly and pushes himself up to lean against the back of the couch, gesturing for you to come closer.

You giggle and waddle over to him, sighing softly when you feel his gentle fingers lightly touch your skin, "nah, just thought it might cheer you up, i know how much you like them." You lower your tone to a sultry one and take his hands in yours, bringing them to your tits and your hardening nipples.

All of his worries seem to melt away as his hands merge with your skin, your warm flesh spilling between his long fingers and making a groan rise in his throat.

"Bollocks, was I that obvious with it?" Your boyfriend gives a giggle.

"Only a littttllleeeee obvious."

Steven laughs softly and tugs you into his lap, pressing his face to your tummy and kissing all the way up to your perked nipples to drive a happy giggle from you.