#STEVEN GRANT X YOU

[multific]

Through Shadow and Light

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/ Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: Marc fears love, Steven longs for it, and Jake doesn’t trust it, but you are the one who ties them all together. 

Marc had always been afraid of love.

To him, it was dangerous, something fragile, fleeting, and bound to be taken away.

Steven, on the other hand, craved it in every way.

He wanted affection, connection, a love that would last.

And Jake?

Jake didn’t trust love.

He had seen enough of the world’s cruelty to know love could be a weapon, sharpened and aimed right at the heart where it hurt the most.

But you? You were the one thing that tied them all together.

At first, they tried to keep their distance in their own ways.

Marc avoided deep conversations, keeping things casual.

Safe.

Steven wanted to open up but held himself back, afraid of being too much.

Jake lingered in the shadows, watching, waiting for the moment when everything would fall apart.

Except it never did.

It was the small things that changed them.

The way you never flinched when Marc pulled away, instead waiting patiently for him to come back.

The way you matched Steven’s excitement over the smallest things, listening to his rambles about history and mythology with genuine interest.

The way you saw Jake, not as a shadow or a threat, but as someone just as worthy of love.

One night, it all came to a head.

Marc had returned from a mission, bruised and battered, barely speaking as he locked himself in the bathroom.

You left him there for a couple minutes, giving him the space he needed before you went and knocked on the door with a gentle voice. “Marc?”

A long pause, and then the door creaked open just enough for you to see his tired eyes.

“You don’t have to talk,” you assured him. “Just let me stay.”

He exhaled slowly before opening the door wider, allowing you in.

You didn’t press, didn’t demand answers.

 You just sat beside him, your presence enough to help him when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

Then there was Jake.

He had always been the hardest to reach.

The most guarded.

But one night, after a particularly brutal mission, you caught him staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You’re waiting for me to leave,” you said softly.

Jake tilted his head, intrigued. “Aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.”

He studied you for a long moment before scoffing, and shaking his head. “You should.”

“But I won’t.”

And that was that.

No grand declarations, no promises you couldn’t keep. Just a simple truth that settled deep inside him, unwilling to be ignored.

The next time he appeared, he let you touch his face, fingers ghosting over the scar on his jaw.

He didn’t flinch away.

Over time, the walls they built began to crumble.

Marc started reaching for you first, resting his forehead against yours after long nights, his way of silently asking for comfort.

Steven no longer hesitated to pull you into his arms, murmuring how much he loved you against your skin.

And Jake?

Jake no longer fought love like it was the enemy.

He let it in. He let you in.

One evening, as you lay in their arms, Marc’s fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm, he spoke quietly. “You know you’re the only thing keeping us sane, right?”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I really don't do much. You give me too much credit.”

He shifted, and now Steven hummed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Maybe love isn’t so bad after all.”

And in that moment, in the quiet warmth of your embrace, they all knew, they belonged to you, and they never wanted to let go.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Meltdown

Steven Grant x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: Steven's had a bad day.

A/N: For @cosmic-kid-in-motion & @romanarose's Disability Visibility Event.

Warnings: Steven having a meltdown, sensory overload, (I know a lot of people experience this differently, I'm just heavily going off what I experience), reader is not in the fic very much, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 686

The door bangs against the wall as it opens, the sound is jarring. Too loud as it rings out and rattles up Steven’s spine. He flinches, his hands automatically covering his ears as he presses his palms against his head. 

He pushes too hard, much harder than he needs to, but he can’t stop. Can’t lessen his strength. If it tries hard enough, he’ll be able to shove them into his brain and squeeze it dry. 

Tears sting his eyes, pressure building along his shoulders and bending his back under its weight. He needs to curl up and shut everything out. 

He manages to close the front door, lock it, before he throws his back and jacket to the floor, stripping quickly. His jeans rub. Painful and heavy and itchy and it just wants to shred the fabric into tiny fucking pieces. The seams are made of glass, cutting into his skin and irritating him the whole journey home. 

His shirt is the wrong material. Too stiff and cold, it made his skin shiver and sweat, and now it just stuck to him in the wrong places. He tears it off too, leaving him in his boxers and socks as he rushes to the bed. 

The tears are starting to fall. He hates that. Hates that it’s happening. Hates that he can’t stop them. Hates how babish it is and why can’t he just get a fucking grip? Why can’t he just get over things? Why does the smallest, most insignificant stuff upset him so badly that he can’t even fucking function for the journey home? 

He’s shivering, the action replaying on repeat and annoying him even more. He rubs his fingers together, pressing as hard as he can over and over. This action is soothing. Or at least it would be, if everything wasn’t already so much. 

Quickly, he climbs into bed, wrapping himself up in the blanket as tightly as he can like a cocoon. He covers his head and then presses his face into the pillow, laying on his stomach awkwardly with his arms pinned to his sides. Like he was in a tomb. 

He’s uncomfortable, it aches. But the sensation is different, controlled. He is in control. His heart thuds in his chest, racing way too fast and making nausea build in his throat. 

Laying like this makes him lightheaded, like he can’t take a full breath of air. But it’s preferable. He can pretend that he’s doing it. That it’s the position that’s squeezing his lungs and robbing him of oxygen. Nothing else. Nothing else. Nothing fucking else. 

If he can just get to sleep. Just for a little while. Ten minutes. Then he’ll be okay. This will be over. Tears won’t be soaking into the pillow. His skin won’t be burning and everything won’t be so fucking loud that he wants to rip his flesh off. 

Your keys are too loud in the lock. They jingle, piercing his ears and making him want to scream. 

Your footsteps echo. Like thunder, rain pouring down and soaking the earth and if he can’t just have fucking five minutes to himself to fucking be quiet and deal and just fucking-

“Steven?” Your voice is worried. Sweet. And normally it would be so welcome, it wouldn’t put his teeth on edge like he had an exposed root. 

He says nothing. Nothing. 

But somehow… you seem to know. 

He drifts off at some point, unsure of the exact point when. But when he wakes you must have put your weighted blanket on top of him, the heaviness of it is comforting, encompassing. 

There’s a cup of tea on the side table, in the cute thermo cup with hieroglyphics that you bought him last month to keep it warm. There are biscuits on a side plate, too. 

As he sits up, he can see that his clothes have been put in the laundry basket, his bag on the hook by the door. 

He smiles slightly, his limbs heavy like he’d just run a few marathons. Lightly, he rubs his fingers against his thumbs. The action soothing.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @steven-grants-world  @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine

 @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr 

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @hammerhead96 @emma23  @mylittledelulucorner

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist 

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop 

@oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 

@pigeonmama @marcsb1tch @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan 

@faretheeoscar @lonelyisamyw-0love  @queerponcho @twwcs @ingoldthewizard

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[lostalioth]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞

→ premise: it was meant to be just a simple quick visit to your sweet boyfriend at work, a regular thing on your days off, something steven looked forward to. especially when the both of you snuck off to the bathroom.

→ pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, against the wall sex, bathroom sex so semi-public sex, creampie, nicknames [baby, love, darling]

→ a/n: kinktober 11

It was merely meant to be a short visit to Steven, your lovely boyfriend, at his job in the gift shop. You just missed him and wanted to see him, you didn't intend for it to end with the two of you sneaking off the bathroom.

“Darling I really need to get back to work, my boss won't like that I'm gone so long” he groaned out, his voice soft as his breath fanned across the back of your neck. His body betrays his words however as he makes no move to stop pinning you against the bathroom wall. His hands grab onto your hips as he drills into form behind. Your chest up against the cold tile wall, your hips bouncing off of his making a slapping sound that filled the echoey bathroom alongside your whines. Your knees grow weaker and weaker the closer you get and the faster and harder Steven thrusts inside you. “Mm baby please just a little longer im s’close” you whimper out about too loudly, the words slurred as your head was going hazier from the pleasure.

Steven's large hands leave your hips, one comes up to cup over your mouth muffling your loud moans, the other drifts between where your bodies are connected and rubs at your clit. “As heavenly as you sound love you‘re gonna get me fired if you aren't quieter” his voice trembles as he can feel you clench around him in response to him silencing you. His eyes screw shut in bliss as he can feel your cunt trying to milk his release from his aching cock. “Gonna cum baby oh fuck-” your words come out mumbled and broken from beneath his hand though Steven can hear you enough to understand.

“Cum for me darling” he moans out, his hips speeding up even faster trying to push you right over that edge. His cock hitting just right deep inside you and his thumb playing with your bundle of nerves you cum hard on his cock. Biting your lip to help further muffle the wanton moan that threatens to escape, it comes out as a strangled desperate whine instead. “Good girl baby, fuck im gonna cum okay love?” He grunts out as his hips falter in rmyth fucking you through your high. With an almost pathetic sounding whine leaving his lips, Steven’s orgasm hit him, shooting hot ropes of cum inside you. After a minute or two when the both of you catch your breath he slowly pulls out, the mixture of his cum and your own leak out of you, trailing down your thigh.

“Maybe you should visit me at work more often darling” he chuckles softly and leans down to kiss at your exposed shoulder. You smile sweetly at him as he quickly works at cleaning you up best he can before he goes back off to work with a short but loving goodbye kiss.

→ a/n: i have never written for steven, this is really short and kinda ass as i rushed it cause its like 2 days later than when i wanted to post this, im trying to get back on track and not fall further behind so there will hopefully be another kinktober day posted today as well.

[lokischickadee]

I think what's funniest about this moment was the fact that this mf was in the middle of fighting a jackal and still had the time to make up a rhyme for his name🤣🤣🤣

[fettuccin-e]

It's Never Easy

Kinktober Day 24: Edging

Tags: Steven Grant x Reader x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley, yeah that's right they're all here baby, afab!fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), unprotected piv (wrap it irl I am begging you), edging, crying during sex, orgasm denial (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: Yeah that's right the boys are back in town, and by that I mean all three moonboys. They're all little shits and I adore them (For Kinktober, I've been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)

You think that you’re finally wearing Steven down.

He’s been at this for hours now, you think, burying himself between your thighs and losing himself like he never wants to leave. He’s fucking incessant when he gets you like this, licking at your cunt until his eyes have glazed over and he’s grinding slowly into the bedsheets. He moans when you tug at his hair, the vibrations from it going up your spine.

“Fuck, Steven, I need-” you moan, your chest heaving with the way Steven sucks your clit into his mouth, licking at you in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your hips hump into his face, chasing the sensation. “I can’t, fuck, I’m gonna- think I’m gonna-”

He pulls his face away just like that, watching as you shout, your hips grinding into nothing but air as your pleasure and your orgasm dissipate. He holds your thighs apart and just looks at the way you tremble, his eyes wide and a blush high on his face.

“That’s it, darling, so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, and you grind your teeth together. This is the third time, the third fucking time, he’s done that. Gotten you so close, your body locking up and threatening to fall off that precipice, before he pulls himself away, leaving you with nothing.

It’s fucking maddening, and Steven just watches, squeezing at his thick cock as it aches between his legs.

“Please, Steven,” you whine, high pitched and needy. “Need you to let me cum, fuck, please let me cum.” You sound so pitiful, so desperate, that Steven’s eyes soften at your begging.

“Oh, I know, love,” he murmurs, sliding a thick finger up the seam of your cunt. “Need it so bad, yeah? It’s okay, darling, I’ll let you cum,���

You nearly sob with relief when he leans back down and sucks your clit into his mouth, sinking two fingers into your entrance. He’s relentless, playing with your clit with his tongue, nudging the tips of his fingers into a little spot inside of you that makes you want to cry. Your orgasm surges back up inside you without warning, and you can’t fucking breathe.

You brace yourself for him to do it again, to pull away when you start babbling, “Gonna cum, fuck, please let me cum,” between heaving moans. But Steven doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow down, and you start to smile with the fact that he’s actually going to let you have it this time without pulling away.

Except, he does pull away.

You cry out as Steven’s head shoots up from between your legs again, but you can only watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head, his jaw clenched.

Marc looks up at you from his place between your thighs, a cocky little smirk playing at his lips. 

“Oh baby,” he says, and his voice is gruff, dark, so unlike Steven’s. “You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” You gasp for air as Marc sinks a third finger into you, and he grins. 

“So pretty when you’re almost fucking there, sweetheart,” Marc murmurs, and he leans close to brush his lips against yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Whining, pleading for us to just let you cum. Steven was going to let it happen, put an end to your misery, but me?” He fucks his hand into you so hard that you choke on a moan. “I like seeing you squirm.”

And the process starts over again.

Marc fucks you on his fingers without a hint of remorse, driving into your g-spot in violent, debilitating thrusts that have you reeling.

You get so close so many fucking times, over and over and over again, your body drawn tight with the overwhelming need to cum. You beg, plead, gripping the bedsheets so hard that you fear you might tear them. But Marc. Doesn’t. Stop.

Every time he feels it, that tell-tale tightening of your body, hears the way you start to go quiet as you focus on finally falling over that precipice, he pulls his hand out of you without any finesse, any mercy.

Around the third time he does it, you really do start to cry, sobbing for Marc to finally let you cum, that you need it so bad it hurts.

“Can’t- it’s too much, Marc, please, please let me, need it so ba-ad,” you hiccup through your moans, tears bubbling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks.

Marc leans down and kisses them away, cooing at you as he grinds the calloused tips of his fingers into the most sensitive parts of your cunt.

“Okay, sweet girl, I’ve got you, come on,” he murmurs, his thumb coming up to press against your clit, grinding little circles into it and sending you fucking flying. “Don’t cry, baby, I’ll take care of you.” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank-” you’re in the middle of thanking him, practically tasting your orgasm on your desperate tongue, when Marc’s eyes roll back, and his hand rips away from your cunt.

“No,” you whine, choking on your tears as your body quakes beneath his, “no, no, please.” You’re practically hysterical, desperate for it after so fucking long, after Steven and Marc have shredded you apart.

“Princesa,” Jake grins down above you, unmistakable with his dark gaze and a smile that is purely fucking primal, feral. “If you think you’re going to cum on anything but my cock, you’re wrong.”

And you can only gasp at Jake notches the thick, leaking head of his cock against your gaping entrance, and shoves himself in to the hilt.

You scream, your back bending into an obscene arch as he fills you up so perfectly. 

“Jake, Jake,” you sob through labored breaths, “I can’t, it’s been, I don’t know how long it’s been, please, please. I need to cum, fuck, ‘m begging.”

“Oh, my beautiful girl,” Jake croons, “Of course you can.”

Of course you can. Like you’ve had permission all along, like it was that easy. Like you haven’t been broken apart by each of them, over and over again, reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess beneath their body.

He’s only one, two thrusts in, but you’re coming anyway, screaming with it as tears flow down your cheeks. Your entire body locks up with it, your cunt squeezing tight around Jake’s cock in rhythmic pulses that have him clutching painfully at your hips. Sweet, sweet relief fills your body, like water in a desert, the sun after a hurricane. It’s fucking bliss, incomparable, absolutely debilitating.

“Mierda, that’s fucking beautiful, fuck,” Jake growls, and he presses into your body so deep you think you can feel it in your stomach, and pumps you full of his cum. “Good girl,” you hear him mutter, “Good fucking girl,” before darkness grows into the edges of your vision and quickly swallowing it whole, leaving you to fall into pitch black oblivion.

When you finally come back to yourself, you feel warm, safe. It’s no surprise to you, since you usually feel that way in this flat, in this bed.

“I didn’t fucking kill her, Steven,” you hear Jake growl. “She’s breathing just fine. And don’t act innocent, you and I both know that you worked her just as hard as Marc and I did.”

“And you all better pamper me,” you croak, still refusing to open your eyes, “As soon as I take a nap.”

“Hermosa,” you hear Jake breathe, and you feel his lips press to your forehead. You crack open your eyes to meet Jake’s gaze, his eyes wide and more worried than he usually lets on. “Are you alright? You- you passed out.” he asks, and you giggle.

“Never been better,” you murmur. “But any of you try that shit again, it’s no sex for a fucking year.”

Jake grins in that roguish way that makes your heart flutter. "As if you could resist any of us for that long, mi vida."

[ivystoryweaver]

Steven, It's Your Birthday?

Steven doesn’t think he has a birthday • tinge of angsty fluff • wc 700 • gn!boss!reader • not beta’d • inaccurate allusions to DID

Read Marc’s birthday story

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

9:45 A.M.

"Steven, could I please see you for a second?"

You buzzed your assistant, who instantly scurried in from his outer office.

"Hey," you smiled at him brilliantly. "That was quick."

Granting you a mock salute, Steven asked, "How can I help, boss?"

Pushing off your office chair, you eased around to lean against the front of your desk. "You've been keeping a secret from me?"

Eyes wide and blinking, his cheeks heated under your scrutiny. "A secret?"

"Mm-hmm," you went on conspiratorially, "Something about today?"

"Today, em," clearing his throat, he quickly scanned his phone for an appointment he may have missed. "I'm not sure..."

"Steven, it's your birthday. Right?"

He paused, tucking his phone back into his pants pocket. "Right," he agreed. "That's right, the 9th of March. I suppose it is, isn't it?"

Smiling wryly, you reached out and squeezed his forearm. “I know you’re the one in charge of birthdays for the office. Did you think it wasn’t okay for us to celebrate yours?”

His eyes flew to where your hand rested on his sleeve, then right back to your tender gaze.

“It’s alright,” he shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t eat the cake anyway, since I’m vegan.”

“Of course,” you quickly nodded, withdrawing your hand. “Since I didn’t realize it was today, I didn’t even get you anything. So, I wondered if I could buy you a drink. Unless you have other birthday plans?” You blinked at him hopefully.

“No. No plans,” he almost coughed out. “A drink sounds wonderful. Brilliant, actually.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

5:45 P.M.

“Steven, hi,” you gushed, seeing your assistant walk into the restaurant you chose. “I hope this is okay?”

“Of course,” he agreed, sitting across the booth from you. Live piano music drifted through the air. “Nice place.”

“Thanks, I like it here. But let me ask you something.”

“All right,” he agreed.

“Is it okay if we celebrate your birthday at the office tomorrow?” You asked, making sure he saw the menu that the server left for the two of you.

Gaze dropping, Steven pulled his hands to his chest uncertainly, compelling you to apologize for overstepping.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…” Chewing on his lip, he paused, inhaling deeply. “We're friends, aren't we?"

Smiling warmly, you agreed. "I feel like we are."

"Good. Good, so I feel I can tell you things, from time to time. You see, I don’t really have a birthday.”

Shaking your head in confusion prompted him to continue.

“I wasn’t ever really born,” he went on, gesturing animatedly. “I sort of…emerged, honestly. I told you I’m a system?”

You nodded. “Yeah of course.” You’d met Marc a few times. He’d even worked a couple of Steven’s shifts when Steven wasn’t fronting.

“So, you see, Marc’s birthday is today, but I-I don’t remember any of our birthdays. I wasn’t even really born then. Or ever, actually.”

Reaching across the table, you squeezed his hand gently but briefly. “That must be difficult. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s all right, don’t be.” With trembling breath, he grasped your hand, enveloping it with his own. “This is so kind of you, really, and you’ve been absolutely lovely today.”

“You deserve it. You deserve to be celebrated, Steven,” you assured him with a tender smile. “On whatever day, in whatever way you want. You’re a person and you were born and you matter.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, eyes shining, fixed on yours. “No one’s ever…” Clearing his throat, he went on. “I don’t think anyone’s ever noticed my birthday before.”

“I notice everything about you, Steven,” you quietly gushed. Noticing his cheeks heat up, you cleared your throat. “Sorry, I mean, I’m your boss, but…I just can’t believe sometimes that no one’s ever…” You trailed off, hoping not to insult him. How was he possibly still on the market? Although you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself and avoid office drama, you couldn't help but flirt with him sometimes.

The corner of his mouth curled and he cocked his head as if imbued with a touch of confidence. “Are you trying to say this is a date?”

You gulped, noticing how his thumb brushed across your knuckles. “Do you want it to be?”

Leaning in, he fixed his gaze on yours. “It's all I could want for my birthday."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Steven masterlist • Moon Knight masterlist • Holidays masterlist

Main masterlist

[the-offside-rule]

S.G, M.S, J.L (Moonknight) - The Three of You & Me

Requested: gotta love the moonknight ppl

Warnings: not really no

Steven Grant fumbled with his keys at the door of the flat, the heavy thunk of the lock finally giving way as the door creaked open. His face showed a mixture of exhaustion and that unmistakable, endearing Steven charm; hair a bit tousled and his shirt wrinkled from a long day at the museum. He stepped inside with a weary sigh, tossing his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes, not caring where they landed. “Ridiculously tired doesn’t even cover it.” He muttered as he spotted his girlfriend, Y/n, sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs. He trudged over and collapsed next to her with a gentle thud, head immediately falling onto her lap. Y/n chuckled, her fingers tussling through his hair as his eyes shuttered shut, his body relaxing into the comfort of her presence.

“Love, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Steven groaned, his voice tired yet animated as he began to recount the day’s events. His hand traced absentminded patterns on her arm, seeking comfort as much as he was giving it. “So, yeah, Donna’s been on me all day. She goes, ‘Steven, I need you to catalog all these artifacts before lunch,’ right? And I’m thinking, that’s impossible. She’s giving me-" He paused dramatically, lifting his head slightly to make his point. "Mummified cats! Actual ancient felines, Y/n. Who just tosses that at someone before lunch?” He shook his head in disbelief before lowering it back against her shoulder. “And the tourists, don’t get me started. Asking me questions like I run the whole museum. I’ve had to tell people ‘I'm not a bloody tour guide’ at least six times today, because Donna like, freaks out when I go about 'nattering' on about Egypt.”

Y/n smiled softly, letting him rant, knowing he needed this space to unwind. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke, his voice growing softer with each complaint, the day clearly catching up with him. His eyelids drooped, his words becoming slower and less coherent. “I don’t know how you put up with me.” He mumbled sleepily, already half-asleep in her arms. She kissed the top of his head gently. “Because I love you, Steven.” He muttered something unintelligible, trailing off as sleep finally claimed him. His body relaxed completely, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

But after a minute, Y/n felt the subtle shift she had come to recognize. Steven’s body tensed slightly, his muscles twitching in a way that was different from the usual sleep movements. His breathing changed, becoming deeper, more controlled. When his eyes fluttered open again, they no longer carried the soft, dreamy expression she knew from Steven.

Marc Spector was awake now.

Y/n smiled knowingly as his gaze met hers, his expression focused and alert. Marc gave her a small, almost apologetic smile as he stretched, cracking his neck with a quiet sigh. “Hello, Marc.” She greeted him softly. Marc’s lips tugged into a brief smile. “Hey.” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Steven was exhausted.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I could tell.” Y/n said with a chuckle, watching him stand up from the couch and head to the kitchen. “You hungry?” Marc asked, already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out ingredients without much thought. “I can make something.”

“Sure, I could eat.” She replied, leaning back into the couch, content to watch him move around the kitchen with the ease of someone used to taking over when needed. In a matter of minutes, Marc had whipped up a plate of grilled cheese. He sighed as he plopped down beside her, handing her the plate and grabbing the control for the TV. "I expected some alfredo or something." Y/n joked. "You said you were starved, pasta takes too long to make." Marc replied, the quiet hum of the television filling the space. "How righteous. You sure it's not because you can't cook?" He scoffed. "Steven can't cook, I made our food before you came along." He said, putting the control down and grabbing a half.

After dinner, Marc flipped through the channels yet again, landing on something mindless, and sat back down, pulling Y/n close as they watched TV. But even Marc couldn’t stave off sleep forever. He yawned, stretching as he set the remote down and leaned back into the couch. “Guess it’s my turn to knock out.” He murmured, his voice rough with fatigue. Y/n smiled, brushing her hand through his hair. “Goodnight, Marc.” He mumbled something in response, already slipping into sleep. But it didn’t last long before that familiar shift happened again—his body changing, his posture becoming more relaxed yet somehow more confident. When his eyes opened this time, they held a sharp, mischievous gleam.

Jake Lockley was awake.

Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at the sudden change in his demeanor. “Buenos días, Jake.” she said with a teasing smile, despite the fact that it was still very much night-time. “Buenos días.” Jake replied with a chuckle, heading straight for the coffee machine. He moved with a smooth, confident ease that was completely distinct from either Steven or Marc. “Coffee? At this hour?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup, the rich aroma filling the room. “I’ve got a job to do.” Jake said, taking a sip and leaning casually against the counter, his dark eyes focused on her. "Cab driving or cab driving." He chuckled. “Don't worry about it, cariño. Won’t be long.” He said finishing the cup of coffee and placing it in the sink. "Marc will clean this later, right?" She chuckled. "He won't like it but probably." He nodded along, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "Vale, hasta luego, cariño." He was about to reach for the door handle when he felt a delicate hand on his arm. “Be careful, okay?” Jake’s grin softened just a bit, his rough exterior giving way as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Siempre tengo cuidado. No te preocupes por esa carita bonita.” He murmured, his voice low and full of quiet reassurance. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded, watching as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He gave her one last glance, his expression full of unspoken promises, before slipping out into the night. The flat felt a little quieter with him gone, but Y/n knew better than to worry. Jake always came back, and she’d be waiting for him.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

STEVEN GRANT day 3 (05, oct) — thigh fucking

18+ fem!reader, 260 words. mdni!!

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚｡𖦹.

Steven hovers atop, his cock grazing heavily along your stomach, the slight desperate motion of his kissing making him grind up against you. He has an eager hand cupped around one of your tits, his fingers almost pawing at you – his hold like a physical testament of his self-control. His other flat on the bed beside your head, scrunching the sheets, his weight propped on his bent arm.

You reach between yourselves and wrap your fingers around him, holding onto his dick you guide him between your thighs. Only this time, you don’t open your legs, instead you clamp them together – purposely pressing the inners of your thighs to one another. 

He eases himself into the tightness of your thighs, his little hump-like motions pushing his dick further into the warmth. He mutters against your lips, the sound incoherent as it muffles into your mouth.

You pull your head back, breaking from the kiss as if you were silently asking him to repeat himself.

“Good,” he pants, the word faint. His forehead pressing against yours, the tips of your noses bumping with the short thrusts of his hips. “Feels really good.”

“I know it does,” you whisper, snaking a hand up the back of his head, fingers raking through the dark curls.

Your other reaches down to his ass, palm laying flat on a cheek as you help him with the wind — wordlessly encouraging him.

His moans are delicate, like they’re whimpers. The sounds strangled and strained with his gentle humping, each noise soft between the closeness of your mouths. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[st4rymoon]

Can u please make a Steven smut where the reader is obsessed with pink and Marc gets her light pink lingerie but she thinks it’s from Steven and she puts on a show for him

This <3

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐞 • Fem Reader x Marc Spector (ft. Steven <3)

- 18+, reader is obsessed with pink <3, riding!, jealousy, Marc fronts half way through the deed :3, soft dom Steven, mean dom Marc, unprotected sex!, reader wears lingerie, language, pet names, fingering!, teasing

Even when Marc was angry with you, he couldn’t help but buy you a few gifts while he was away doing Khonshus dirty work.

He picked out some pretty lace sets, all different shades of pink and fully aware that you loved anything pink. Once you’d moved in, there was always a hint of pink in every direction of his flat.

Steven didn’t mind it, he loved it but Marc and Jake weren’t the biggest fans of pink blankets and pillows littering their dull apartment. Sometimes Marc would even notice the pink fluff from your plushies on his jackets and shirts.

He would never admit it but he couldn’t help but smile whenever he noticed it.

Steven had called you the night before, letting you know your boys are back from their monthly work trips.

Marc had left the bag full of lace panties and lingerie sitting on his bed with pink tissue paper fluffing up the bag. He couldn’t wait to see you light up at the kind gesture he planned.

You stepped into an empty apartment, no sight of anyone but Gus swimming around in his tank. A buzz from your phone caught your attention “sorry love Donna is making me close tonight. I’ll be out in 30”your phone read.

Disappointed at the message you sighed but sent a reassuring text telling Steven not to worry. You’d just make yourself at home.

You tried to ignore the pink bag sitting pretty on the bed the second you walked in but as always, you were curious at what it could be.

For my favorite girl was written in pink ink on a small piece of paper, a string keeping it in place as it hung around one of the bags arms.

You smiled at the small message and slowly pulled the stuffing from bag. You squealed at the sight of delicate light pink lace sets of lingerie and sets of under garments.

There was no hesitation as you kicked off your clothes and picked out your favorite piece. You went for the soft pink set that came with a bra, panties, and matching garter belt.

The panties are embroidered with a white trim, the garter belt having two pretty pink bows on both your upper thighs and the bra having identical details making it all satisfyingly match. You looked like the perfect present for your boys.

You smiled at your reflection noticing how good it all fit. Steven really did know your size you thought.

You waited for Steven as you set the mood. Lighting a few candles and playing one of Jake’s more sensual records did a lot for the little flat.

Hearing the doorknob turn made you perk up, your body now facing the door as you posed yourself in the sexist position possible.

“I’m sorry love I really am, Donna and her bloody rules” Steven hissed as he burst inside. “It’s ok, you’ll make it up” you cooed.

Steven gasped, his shoulder bag slipping off onto the ground as he stood with his mouth wide open “bloody hell love” he huffed as he stumbled across the living room and made his way to you.

You giggled as you jumped onto the bed, playfully running from Steven as he pulled at your legs. He ignored Marc’s curses and insults as Steven savored the sight of your thick thighs being hugged by the thin elastic strand of cloth.

Steven I bought it ALL for her you little shit. Don’t you dare take the fucking credit!

The words flew through Steven’s ears “missed you so much darling” he whined as you pulled him in for a kiss, the words swallowed down by your lips as you kissed him hungrily.

Both of you moaned into each other as Steven’s arms laid beside your head, holding himself up steady as you wrapped your legs around him. “Show me how much you missed me then” you cooed.

Steven you asshole!

Marc’s voice echoed in Steven’s head as Marc tried his best to ask nicely. He didn’t want to take over the body but he didn’t appreciate Steven getting all the credit. The gifts were just one of the many apologies Marc had planned out but here Steven was indulging himself.

Steven this is the last time I ask nicely.

You squirmed as Steven’s hands ran up your thighs, his soft touch making you moan as he buried himself in your neck. His tongue lapped and sucked at your skin all the while his hips rocked onto your clothed body.

“N- No!”

You noticed as Marc took over, the once soft grip now rough as his hands held your thighs like letting go was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I bought you these, I wanna see ‘em” he hissed as he pushed out Steven’s pleads and curses. “Do you really think Steven’s the only one who can do something nice for you?”

You moaned as Marc’s hand snaked from under your spine and up to your hair. “Answer me” he hissed as he tugged a fist full of your hair back “No” you gasped “I- I just thought you hated pink. I’d think you’d buy me something red” you now confidently spoke.

“Wrong” he hummed “well I’m sorry, I just thought stev-“ you were cut short as Marc tugged your panties to the side and without a word he pushed two thick fingers into your tight cunt.

You mewled as he hummed with a cocky smile on his face. Marc payed attention to the sound of your needy whines growing louder with each of his thrusts.

Without a second thought he pulled out his fingers. You cried in agony as he ignored you “please Marc I’m sorry” you whined in hopes of getting him back between your legs.

“I know, I know you are bunny” he hummed “jus’ be patient. Just be patient.”

You spread your legs wide as you watched him begin to unbuckle his belt, his hand expertly moving his buckle to the side and in one quick tug he yanked the thick leather from around his waist.

Seeing Marc so impatient and irritated at the fact that someone else was taking credit for his actions was something you never knew you needed.

The way his ruffled hair bounced with his rushed movements as he kicked his jeans off was mesmerizing. Your eyes dumbly stared at his v-line as he tossed another layer of clothing.

“You want somethin’ honey?” He chuckled, his hand nudging your thighs apart as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against your plump lips. The sloppy kiss makes the both of you moan as your tongues intertwine and lap at each other.

Marc’s calloused hand plants itself softly around your neck as his hips grind into your sticky cunt. You could feel your slick begin to pool in the thin lace as he spread your legs wider.

“Marc” you moaned, your breath unsteady as his hands ran up your thighs and played with the thin straps of your garter belt. All he let out was a hum as his eyes dragged down your body and locked between your thighs.

A loud gasp slipped from your lips as two of his calloused fingers pulled the soft fabric of your panties to the side, two fingers instantly pushing into your tight cunt. “Marccc” his name rolled off your tongue in a purr, your hand wrapping onto his wrist as he watched you go dumb.

“This all it takes? Tsk”

Marc pulled away without a warning “Look at all this mess” he sighed as he held his fingers up to his face, his thick digits now covered in your sticky slick ���open” he mouthed.

Without hesitation you did as told and tasted yourself “don’t swallow” he smiled. You nodded with his fingers still in your mouth as your tongue swirling around his digits.

Marc groaned as he yanked his fingers out and held you by the sides of your jaw to keep your mouth open so he could get a taste for himself.

“I think I want you above me sweetheart, that pathetic little look on your face will look even better from above” Marc hummed.

He loved how obedient you always are with him because in no time you were pushing him onto the pillows and straddling his thighs.

You managed to tug his boxers down to his knees by the time he got comfortable “I bet you were all worked up when Steve-“ Marc cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“Of course I’d be upset, I wanted to be the one greeted in this pretty outfit. I bought it for you and me for a reason so I won’t let Steven or Jake get a chance” he cockily smiled.

You nodded with an amused expression “oh yeah?”

“Yeah” Marc hissed.

“Torturing the both of them just to see me in this?” You pout “it’s so unfair” you cooed as you settled above his tip “I know it is, I’m selfish” he groaned with his eyes trained on your cunt.

“Very selfish” you cooed as you sunk down his length. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he settled deep inside you, his fat tip nudging deep as you sat onto his thighs.

Marc’s eyes rolled back into his skull as he felt your tight walls squeeze him with a vice grip “f- oh-“ he gasped as your hips began to move.

You watched as his jaw tightened with every heavy thrust of his hips.

You bloody asshole! I was the first here

She wanted me first

Marc blocked out Steven’s curses and pleads as he watched your tight cunt stretch around his fat length. You were already gushing slick as Marc buried his face into the crook of your neck.

He chuckled at the lewd sounds your pussy with his hands planted on your waist. He pressed a messy kiss onto your neck before taking a better look of the mess you were making.

“Shit” Marc cursed as he took in how soaked you were “miss me this much bunny? Look at how fucking easy it is to make you all wet and sticky” he chuckled.

He smiled at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your tight cunt “using your cum as a lube huh? What’s got you so sensitive” he teased. You ignored his words as you expertly swayed your hips and rode him for all he’s got.

You mewled as each word coming out of Marc’s mouth was followed by a heavy thrust. You clawed and scratched at his shoulders as he spread your legs wide, pinning them open to each side with his thighs for better leeway.

You couldn’t resist the high pitched moan that spilled from your lips as Marc mumbling to himself. Heavy-eyed and a passionate look in his eyes as he went on and on about how good your pussy is, how much he missed being in you, and how smart it was of him to buy you these pretty little outfits.

Look so fuckin’ pretty sweetheart. Taking it like a champ huh? My sweet little plaything takin’ me so well.

You couldn’t get a word out as Marc fucked you dumb with a heavy hand on your throat “Mmm- Ma- Marccc” you mewled, nails dragging down his arms as you try and get a hold of him.

Marc hummed and gave you his hand to squeeze knowing you always craved some extra comfort. Steven watched through the mirror with a large frown on his face as he watched you cum around Marc’s cock, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as Marc glared at Steven with cocky smile.

“Who’s making you feel this good honey? Say it” Marc taunted “Marc Ma- ohh fuckk” you hiccuped “say it louder” he cooed.

Steven’s couldn’t watch. He was beyond furious as the pretty cries of Marc’s name you let out echoed through the room.

“Could Steven fuck you this good?”

Marc was cruel knowing you had no damn clue what you were saying, so cock drunk you didn’t even realize what you were getting yourself into.

“No no only you Marc fu-“

Steven scoffed. He’d just have to remind you how much better he is at fucking you.

[ierofrnkk]

the sum of his parts - steven grant

Summary: You love Steven Grant, and there are some parts of him that stick out in your mind a little more than others. (~1.2k)

Content: 18+, gn!reader but reader has a vagina (no fem pronouns used), very brief & vague oral (f receiving), fingering, egregious use of italics.

a/n: This is the first thing I’ve really ever fully written AND posted!! Forgive me for it being vague and unpolished—I will get better!! I’ve just been so captivated by these boys after watching Moon Knight that I had to write something!

—

You love Steven as a whole, the culmination of all things that make him him, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t notice the little things.

The details.

—

The first thing you loved about Steven was his hair; the way that the curls were always pushed to one side, sitting atop his head like his brush had broken and he’d neglected to buy a new one.

It was one of the first things you touched when you finally had the opportunity to, making up some story about how he’d had a shred of paper stuck to one of his curls—he hadn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

You couldn’t get enough of the soft texture, even after months of getting to experience it. You had your hands in his hair every chance that you got.

When the two of you lay on the couch together, him cuddled against your chest as you watched the next documentary about the evolution of earth’s marine life, or something, you would drag your fingers through his hair idly. He would sigh in appreciation of the gentle touch.

When he’d be in a flurry early in the morning, racing to get ready on time before he missed the bus, you caught him for the briefest moments to smooth your palm across his unruly curls, taming the locks as best you could before he raced out the door.

When he’d settle himself between your thighs, mouth on your cunt like he’d die if you pulled him away, you’d tangle your fingers in those same dark curls, tightening your grip just enough to keep him in place. He always sighed appreciatively then, too.

—

The next thing you’d found yourself loving about Steven were his eyes, always wide like saucers and taking in every ounce of information that they can. The color of them always reminded you of coffee, but specifically the cups that he’d make for you in the early hours of the morning, perfect like no one else could.

You’re stupidly fond of the way he looks at you when you talk—it could be the most mundane thing, like laundry or dinner, and he’d be watching you so intently it’d feel like you’re giving a presentation on newly-unearthed artifacts in Cairo.

You remember the first time he cried in front of you. It was over something that seems so simple now; the two of you had made plans for dinner at your apartment, and he’d shown up late—through no fault of his own, the train wasn’t on schedule—but he’d felt so guilty about it that it brought him to tears. You can still see the way he looked in your mind: brows knit together, those beautifully dark eyes rimmed red and filled with tears.

He’d apologized profusely, and you silenced him with a kiss.

You like the way he looks when he’s half asleep, doing his best to fight his drowsiness to spend as much time with you as physically possible. His gaze is softer, somehow, his eyes half-lidded even with the way he fights to keep them wide open. That’s when you know he’s not going to last much longer before he’s out for the night.

When you’re kissing him, and you pull back for that brief, glorious moment, his eyes are dark, pupils blown with desire in a way that sends a wave of heat to your core.

You don’t miss the way those pretty eyes of his flutter shut whenever you touch him, even if it’s something simple; he’s touch-starved—not that he’ll ever admit that to you—so any physical show of affection is nearly enough to put him over the edge.

You’ve become familiar with the way he drifts, his eyes seeming to haze over and go unfocused—when he goes away for a moment—caught in his own reflection and watching as if there’s something else there with him.

—

You’ve quickly grown to become fond of his hands, in many more ways than just one.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to hold his hand all the time, to feel the warmth of his palm against your own, fingers interlaced with yours in the way that makes you feel like nothing could separate you two. He made sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

You’re very grateful for that.

When he takes one of his hundreds of books off of his bookshelf, flipping through page after page as he looks for a specific section, you can’t help but watch his hands. He moves with ease and precision, stark from the way he’s usually fumbling or unsure of where to go. He’s in his element, and you recognize that.

When he joins you on your monthly grocery trip, he insists on bringing all of the bags up in one go—he’s trying to be helpful, even if it means making things more difficult for him; that’s just how Steven is. Selfless. You can’t get enough of the sight of him like that, though, with multiple grocery bags held in each hand, all while he does his best to navigate your apartment complex.

You remember the first time he truly, properly held your hand; he’d done it in such a Steven way that you couldn’t deny him. He’d gone off on some spiel about human evolution and something about how in ancient civilizations, the size of your hands denoted status—you can see where this is going—and he insisted the two of you compared the size of your hands. For the sake of anthropology, of course.

Knowing what he was getting at, you obliged, pressing your palm to his, and without a beat of hesitation, he laced his fingers with your own, a sheepish grin on his face as a result of his boldness. You couldn’t even be mad about it.

Of course, those hands of his are good for more than just holding yours or carrying your groceries.

—

The first time he made you come was with his hands; he was too impatient to even wait to fuck you properly—he just had to touch you—so, he did.

You remember the feeling of his hands on your thighs, shifting and adjusting you until you were in a good position for him. He had made sure to not be too rough with you, even in his desperation. Sweet, considerate Steven.

His hands, as fidgety and hesitant as they usually are, were precise and sure when he touched you. He moved deftly when he found your slit, dragging his fingers through the wetness that’d already gathered there.

It wasn’t long after until one of those same thick fingers pushed into your heat, then another. It’s practiced—efficient— like he’s done this for you a thousand times, even though you both know he hasn’t.

When his thumb had brushed your clit, with just enough pressure to send another wave of heat up your spine, you knew you were done for. He had looked at you with those eyes, pupils blown and eyes half-lidded, and you could tell right then that he was more focused on your pleasure than his own.

When you finish, you card your fingers through his raven curls, holding just enough to bring him close enough that you can kiss him.

He goes willingly, all sweet and pliant as you maneuver him closer, and you’ve never been more grateful to have someone like him.

—

Steven is much, much more than just the sum of his parts, but you sometimes have to put him under a microscope and appreciate everything that makes him him.

[abbygracerecs]

Oscar Isaac Fic Recommendations

Miguel O'Hara

College Roommate!Miguel - @loganlermanstanaccount smut

Superhuman Stamina - @astroboots smut

Addicted - @wh1sp3rr smut

Fiancé!Miguel - @truetogaia smut

Pleasurable Practice - @hoshigray smut

I’ll Bite - @bits-and-babs smut

Chubby!reader - @lust4liyah smut

Helping Hand - @belliesy smut

Strawberry Sweet - @clandestineloki smut

Yandere!Miguel - @exhaslo smut

Ex’s dad - @drefear smut

Ex-boyfriend’s dad - @deadbydad-writes smut

Headcanons - @writeroutoftime

Bfb!Miguel - @fayeofthenightingale

Steven Grant + Marc Spector + Jake Lockley

Like 'em weird - @distracted-milkshake

Small Surprises Part Two - @angel-of-the-moons a little smutty

Alone Time - angel-of-the-moons smut connected to the other ones

Ligyrophobia - angel-of-the-moons also connected

Trick or Treat - angel-of-the-moons Halloween themed connection

To the Rescue - @ofstarsandvibranium

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Moon Boys Sleeping Headcanons

Rating: PG •  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged? • ko-fi •

Warnings: some fluffy fluff, mentions of reader, not beta read

Word count: 861

Steven:

I firmly believe that this man constantly moves in his sleep.

He’s rolling around all over the place.

One of those people that hold their arms/legs up in their sleep in the most uncomfortably looking positions. 

There has been more than one occasion where you wake up and see Steven sitting up in bed, fully asleep, and you have to coax him back into lying down.

He is taking up all of the space, then hardly any. 

He’s got all the covers and then none. 

Side and back sleeper, for sure. Loves to be the big or little spoon when going to bed and will twist himself into the most uncomfortable positions for himself if it means you're comfy. 

There is normally at least some part of him touching you, even if he is out of it. 

You have woken up to him holding your hand or your arm in his sleep. Or curled up into a ball and snuggled into your side. 

His feet are always warm, no matter how cold it is.

Delights in eating in bed, watching TV cuddling with you. (Will tell Marc he never eats in bed with a completely straight face.) 

Once he knows about Marc and doesn’t worry so much about sleepwalking he has the ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. Literally his eyes are closed and a second later it’s lights out. 

Mumbles in his sleep. It’s never actual words, just little sounds. You video him sometimes to show him in the morning. 

He laughs about it for ages. 

Remembers his dreams in vivid detail. 

Always wakes up with messy hair, no matter how hard he tries or what material his pillow is. 

Prefers to sleep in pyjamas even when it’s burning hot, because it doesn’t feel right otherwise.

Marc:

Back sleeper. Literally lays down like he’s going into his coffin, so stiff it should be uncomfortable. 

However if you’re in bed with him he will snuggle up and lay all over your chest and tummy, and please play with his hair while he goes to sleep. He needs it. 

Doesn’t talk in his sleep, but flinches and twitches. The movements are usually small, like a mini electric current runs through his nerves. 

Pulls a face at eating in bed, will get the handheld vacuum cleaner out and hoover the sheets. “Steven, why are there crumbs here?” 

“I don’t know mate, don’t ask me.” 

“They're those stupid seaweed chip things you eat, you’re the only one of us that eats them.”

“First, they're crisps Marc, say it with me crisps.”

“Steven-”

“Secondly, Jake eats them too.” 

“I know it was you Steven, you always eat in the bed-”

“I’m the only one who changes the bloody covers, aren’t I? I think I’ve earned it.”

“That’s not-”

“I changed the covers last week.” Jake chimes in. 

“You’re right, you did mate, sorry about that.” 

“No problem.” Jake gives him a mental thumbs up.

Marc is just like !!! Where is my apology for eating in the bed? !!!

However, if Marc wakes up before you he will bring you breakfast in bed and purposefully ignore Steven when he playfully calls him a hypocrite.

Sleeps in pyjamas if it’s cooler, but will also sleep naked if it’s hot. 

Falls asleep quickly and doesn’t remember his dreams at all. (He prefers it that way.)

Deep, but light sleeper. Goes into a deep sleep very quickly, but is awake and alert if something sounds ‘wrong’. You once stubbed your toe on the bathroom door and let out a little yelp and he was up and by your side before you’d even realised.

Likes to put lavender and eucalyptus sprays and oils on his pillow. 

Jake: 

Very good at sleeping sitting up and power naps, but prefers you to be laying on top of him if you're in bed. 

It makes him feel grounded to have your weight on him. If you’re happy to lay completely on him he is so content, it doesn’t matter what weight you are, he just loves wrapping his arms around you like you’re his own weighted blanket. 

You buy him a weighted blanket for a gift and he wraps himself up in it constantly. 

Often complains about the cold when sleeping, even when it’s hot his feet are still freezing. He has taken to always wearing socks in bed.

Which leads to a rather amusing sight in August when it is boiling hot, so he’s sleeping naked, but his feet are still covered in fluffy socks. 

He calls them his ‘sexy socks’, and has pairs in a variety of colours. He prefers ones that have loud patterns and colours. 

(I headcanon Jake as a kniter, so I think he would definitely make some for himself as well.) 

Doesn’t usually eat in bed, but does on occasion to affectionately annoy Marc. 

Remembers his dreams, and remembers Steven’s and Marc’s as well. 

Likes to dramatically push you into bed, and throw himself in after. 

Doesn’t move around a lot in the night, but occasionally talks. 

Never wakes up first if he can help it, usually stays asleep while Marc and Steven are up. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt

@novarosewood @pygmi-cygni

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hear me out

What if.... You're one of Khonshu's favorite followers. He's drawn to you for some reason, maybe it's your shy existence, your soft presence not willing to be the center of attention... something within him just clicks with you

And not in a romantic way. More like a "oh this human is tiny looks like it's mine now" kinda way

One day you bound up to him, all excited and happy, explaining to him that some guy asked you out when you took a lil "me trip" for fun into town today, you wound up talking for hours and by the end of it the guy apparently was all shy about asking for your number for a coffee or something later on.

And you being nervous about people in general, being too shy and nervous to go out on a date, he's... proud of you. Happy for you, even; that you're going out of your comfort zone to meet someone you felt you connected with.

But of course when said date comes, Khonshu shadows you to make sure he isn't some secret closet serial killer or anything (read: overprotective birb dad)

And imagine his utter shock, disgust, and horror--

That your date is none other than

Steven.

Fucking.

Grant.

On one hand he wants to be happy for you, but on the other hand.... The worm?! Really?!

[quiet-night-sky-writers-blog]

Sweet dreams

Pairing: Moon system x fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1k

Summary: you are having a foursome with the moon boys

Warnings: foursome, oral f!receiving, oral m!receiving, anal f!receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, that's it I guess?

Author's note: good old porn without plot. Each of the boys has their own physical body. And don't say you haven't thought about it at least once, I still won't believe you!😈

Happy Oscar's and Moon system’s birthday, fandom!🥳

It was a homey, cozy evening you spent with your boys watching your favorite movie. Your back was pressed against Marc's firm chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. You were wearing only a loose white t-shirt from one of your boyfriends. Your outstretched, naked legs rested on Steven's lap, sitting on the couch next to you two; he stroked them a little absent-mindedly, intently watching what was happening on the screen. Jake settled right on the floor; your fingers played with the curls of pitch-black hair at the back of his head, and every now and then he caught your hand and pressed a kiss to it.

- Baby, - Marc's lips touched your earlobe first, then your soft cheek; his low, quiet voice sent goosebumps down your spine, - would you... Would you like to have sex with the three of us?

Reaching for the remote, Jake switched off the TV and turned around. Three pairs of dark brown eyes were staring at you, waiting for your answer. The question Marc asked made you feel hot. Your heart thudded in your chest, thumping against your ribs, your mouth instantly dry, and you felt your whole body start to shiver with the excitement of anticipation.

You shifted your gaze from Steven to Jake, and then turned to look into Marc's eyes.

- Yes, - you breathed out. As if the answer could be any other way...

The next second, Marc's lips covered yours. Jake, without hesitation, took advantage of his comfortable position: kneeling in front of you, he slid his palms up your thighs, spread them wider, picked up your hips and turned them slightly toward him, then pulled down your panties and pressed his mouth against your pretty, exposed pussy. A pitiful whimper escaped from your chest.

For a few moments Steven watched admiringly. You and him had made love many times, but this... this was something incredible. It was the most arousing thing he could imagine. Noticing Marc squeezing your breasts through the white cotton, rolling the hard peas of your nipples between his fingers, Steven finally moved closer and began slowly, inch by inch, lifting the hem of your shirt, placing kisses on the warm skin of your belly and then your chest. Freeing your tender, soft breasts at last, he drew one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked on it, bobbing his head slightly, while rubbing the other one with his fingertips.

Jake could feel your juices running down his chin. Your orgasm was coming rapidly; you were already frantically rocking your hips, literally fucking his mouth, pulling the hair on the top of his head. All of this was driving him wild with delight. He loved sharing you with his hermanos; there was no jealousy in your relationship, for you loved each of them equally, you belonged to each of them equally, and neither of you doubted it.

- That's it, - Marc whispered hoarsely, - our good girl. So perfect for us. 

You exploded into a mind-blowing orgasm, shuddering all over your body. Lost in sensation, you felt yourself continue to be caressed by three pairs of hands, continue to be kissed by three pairs of lips.

Still drifting in sweet post-orgasmic pleasure, you suddenly felt yourself being picked up in someone's arms.

- It's time for us to move to a more comfortable place, - Jake announced, heading for the bedroom.

You couldn't hold back an absolutely pornographic moan as you slowly lowered yourself onto Steven's cock. From the orgasm you'd just had, your supersensitive pussy was so damn hot and so wet that it squelched lewdly with every thrust.

So wet that Jake didn't need any extra lube when he pressed the thick tip of his cock against the tight little hole of your ass.

- Easy! - Marc barked as you cried out loudly, taking the other man inside you.

- It's okay, - Jake purred, one hand stroking your back, the fingers of the other gently stimulating your clit, - I'm the one who took the virginity of that pretty, sweet ass, remember? I know what I'm doing.

And damn it, he really knew. It wasn't hard for the three of you to find the right rhythm. You felt so deliciously full, the sensation was fucking perfect - two cocks moving in sync inside you, Steven's hands on your breasts, Jake's fingers on your clit. The only thing missing was...

- Marc... - you opened your squeezed eyes and reached out to him, - I want you.

Slightly frowning, he didn't take his burning gaze off you. Steven and Jake slowed down.

- I... I need to be sure that everything's okay. That you're okay. That we won't go overboard.

- My love, I'm okay. I promise. Please, come here. I want you so bad. Please?

How the hell could he say no to you?

During the time you'd been together, you'd already gotten to know each other inside and out. Your boys knew what you liked, and you knew what liked each of them. So it wasn't hard for you to make Marc let out a low guttural moan as you wrapped your palm around his cock and sucked his balls.

Your second orgasm didn't take long to come. Steven cum simultaneously with you, Jake - a few moments later. After recovering a little, you focused all your attention on Marc. As you sucked him off, you felt the hot sperm slowly dripping down the inside of your thighs from your two open, properly fucked holes.

Marc cum, pushing roughly down your throat and hoarsely breathing out your name. After swallowing every last drop, you satisfiedly licked your lips and looked up at him. He affectionately touched your cheek.

You opened your eyes.

With a slight smile, Marc was looking at you attentively, propped up on his elbow. You blinked. The room was dark - it wasn't morning yet. There were just the two of you.

- What's up, babygirl?

- Nothing, - you felt your panties were soaking wet, - I just had a dream...

[fettuccin-e]

Man in the Mirror

Kinktober Day 19: Voyeurism

Tags: Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant, afab!fem!reader, consensual voyeurism, unprotected piv (pls wrap it in real life omg), dirty talk, slight degradation, Steven watches Marc fuck you through a mirror idk what to tell you (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Back with the boys because I love them and I cannot help myself okay!!! And this is consensual, even though Steven doesn't exactly know it at the beginning, he just thinks he's being a perv. But in my fics, everyone is a perv alright! (this month I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.

There’s something about the way Marc fucks you, the way you scrabble at the bedsheets when the shoves you into a lewd arch, his hand pressing into your back. The way you moan for it, heaving breaths into your lungs. It’s the way Marc talks to you through it, talking to you like you’re the filthy one, like you’re the one who’s desperate for it, even though Steven knows it’s both of you.

“God damn, baby,” Marc snarls, fucking into you hard enough that tears are starting to leak down your cheeks. “You’re fucking sucking me in, sweetheart. Feels good, huh? Getting fucked like you need?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you gasp through the moans he forces out of your mouth with every thrust. “It’s so fucking good, Marc, you’re so fucking deep.”

Steven should stop, right now. Go hide in the headspace, go to sleep and let you both have some privacy. Fuck, he's as naked as Marc is right now, he should feel exposed, have some god damn decency. But it’s like he’s stuck in place, staring in through the mirror as Marc rips you apart in ways he’s never dreamed to. It’s fucking addicting to watch the way your eyes roll back, the way your ass smacks back against Marc every time he shoves himself in, in, in. He reaches down to his bare cock and squeezes, unable to help it.

You’d only put this mirror up a week ago, and he hadn't even thought about the positioning of it. It’s placed on the wall right across from the foot of your bed, and fuck, he can see everything. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought about this view when he had helped you set it straight, Marc coming into view in the reflection and smirking at Steven like he knew something he didn’t. Steven had brushed it off.

He shouldn’t have fucking brushed it off.

Because he’s sure, almost fucking positive, that Marc had somehow known. He’d known that Steven would watch, just like this, how Marc takes care of their girl. How he destroys you in ways that Steven can’t even think up on his own. It’s a special kind of torture, seeing you like this and not feeling it, not feeling you.

Marc’s thrusts are brutal, violent like the man himself. He treats you with so much care normally, Steven has seen it, but this isn’t gentle in the least. And you love it, crying out and drooling onto your sheets as Marc rips you to pieces, pulling you back onto his cock with thick fingers digging hard into your hips. He’s not sure how long he’s been watching intently, unable to tear his gaze away, when he sees Marc’s head snap up.

Looking right fucking at him.

Steven should go, disappear from the consciousness entirely, but it’s like he’s glued to the spot, his gaze locked with Marc’s. Marc’s thrusts don’t stutter, don’t stop, and you’re blissfully unaware as Marc watches Steven watch you.

Until Marc grins like the bastard he is, and leans down to mutter, just loud enough for Steven to hear, “Guess who’s here, gorgeous?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp through Marc’s unrelenting thrusts.

“He’s watching, baby,” Marc smiles, glancing up at Steven. “Just like you wanted.”

You wanted- you wanted? Steven’s breath catches in his throat, he’s pretty sure his heart stops fucking beating. 

“Steven,” you moan like it’s been punched out of you. “Steven’s here.”

“He’s watchin’ in that mirror you put up, sweetheart,” Marc says, “Watching me fuck you.” Steven is flushed beet-red, he knows it, but still, he watches. “Look at him, baby,” Marc growls, “Fucking look at him.”

Marc reaches up and curls a fist into your hair, tugging your head up to look straight into the mirror, straight at Steven. And God, you’re beautiful, tears falling down your face, your lips plump from the way you’ve been biting at them. You can’t see him, Steven knows that, but you look anyway, like you really can.

“She wanted this,” Marc snarls, and you clench your eyes shut, like you want to hide from Steven’s gaze. “She put that mirror up, hoping you’d watch like this. Wanted me to watch you both too, Steven.” You whine, and Marc’s thrusts seem to get even harder. “Our baby’s a little slut, just wants someone to watch her get fucked, isn’t that right, honey?”

“Your-” you gasp, staring into the mirror, like you’re talking to Steven, too. “Your slut, fuck, just yours.”

Marc fucking growls, his hips driving his cock into you. Steven can hear the way your pussy squishes around him, so wet you’re dripping down onto the sheets beneath you. Your body is covered in sweat, glinting in the light, practically glowing.

“Gonna let him fuck you after this, baby?” Marc grits, “Fucking whore for this cock, can’t get enough.” You slur a stream of yesyesyesyes as Marc reaches beneath you to start rubbing furiously at your clit, and you tremble beneath him.

“C’mon, gorgeous, cum for me.” Marc glances up at Steven. “Cum for both of us.”

Your eyes go wide, your mouth gaping open around a silent scream as you gush down Marc’s cock, body shaking as Marc fucks you through it, letting out a strangled groan of his own. Steven is hard as a fucking rock, straining against his stomach, begging for your touch. He watches as Marc thrusts deep and stills, his eyelids fluttering as he pumps you full of his cum.

You slump into the sheets, and Marc slides out of you, leaning down to kiss down your spine, muttering little praises of “such a good girl,” and “took it so well, looked so pretty,” into your skin. You roll onto your back, tugging Marc down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Marc smiles against your mouth, and Steven feels that familiar pull to the front.

He shuts his eyes, and when he blinks them open again, you’re smiling up at him, reaching up to brush a reverent hand across his jaw.

“Enjoyed the show?” you whisper, and Steven can’t help the way he grins, the way his heart flutters.

“More than you know, darling,” he mutters, and leans to lick into your mouth. “Got to give Marc a show now, yeah?”

[jks1uv]

𝑌𝑜𝑢 & 𝐼 (𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 & 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒) ; marc spector / steven grant | one-shot |

summary: marc notices steven’s lingering gaze on you when he thinks he’s hidden away.

pairing: fem!wife!reader x husband!marc spector.

trope: established relationship + husband who doesn’t play about his wife.

genre: fluff + some comedic relief + mild angst.

warnings‼️: jealous!marc + mean!marc (he’s a bit of a bully to steven) + jake makes his first appearance!

word count: 2,454.

random disclaimerrr: reader’s last name is l/n-spector. i was inspired by an edit that had the clip of marc saying “you’re in love with my wife?!” & steven was like “if i need, like, a recipe for a protein shake or something, i’ll call ya.” 😭 ts was so hilarious. happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Marc Spector has a natural talent in terms of observation. He’s perceptive, sharp.

You never know when he’s there simply because he chooses not to make his presence known.

It’s kind of scary, actually. You’ve had your fair share of panicked frights that almost brought you a heart attack.

He’s toned it down a lot ever since you’ve settled down and made a place in his heart.

You know him, truly see him for who he is.

You know his rough and calloused hands are in that image because of the hard work he puts in. You know his tired eyes harbor an ache that paints his soul a deep blue. You know there are some things he won’t tell you despite marrying you but you don’t mind.

You’ve been nothing but patient with him so you’ll wait as long as you need to.

Currently, you can’t wait for too long because you need something from the bathroom but it’s occupied.

He and the man in the mirror are having a heated discussion of which you’re the topic of.

“I’ve been in control this whole time-”

“Exactly! You’ve been in control of the body this whole time! When will it be my turn?!”

Marc shuts his eyes and rubs the sides of his forehead.

Steven has a point, he knows that.

However, he also knows the way the British man looks at you. His gaze is filled with longing, something Marc has familiarized himself with.

He wants to speak to you so badly but is shoved away inside like a haphazardly packed suitcase.

Steven has developed a romantic fondness for you and it grows stronger every time Marc intervenes.

“Why won’t you let me talk to her?”

It’s pitiful, how dejected Steven sounds.

Pathetic is really the word Marc wants to use but it’s not about the words. It’s about Marc’s jealousy.

“It’s not that.”

Your husband denies it like he’s been doing but Steven knows better.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Marc. I know why you won’t give me the body.”

If looks can kill, the ex-mercenary would’ve been the world’s most wanted serial killer.

“This conversation is over.” His tone is grave and cold.

“Finally.” Your muffled voice sounds.

Marc can see Steven’s face visibly brighten and there’s a hint of hope sparkling in his eyes. It almost makes Marc break his possessive streak.

Almost.

He sighs as he twists the knob revealing you standing in the doorway.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” You pry with your weight shifted on one hip and your arms crossed.

Marc stares at you and takes you in like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Your red and black plaid pajama pants grown soft over the years from the laundry, the faded logo of a graphic tee hanging off your shoulder.

Your hair is damp from your shower earlier and he can still smell the products you’ve incorporated into your shower and skincare routine.

He subconsciously stops himself and allows Steven to really see you as well. Or maybe it’s the effect your love has on your husband that makes him stop dead in his tracks.

Either way, it’s you.

“Marc? Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows furrow a bit in concern and your hands reach out to him.

Marc doesn’t respond. He just stares at you with his deer-like eyes, like widening them would encompass your image.

His body shifts slightly but you clock it immediately.

His feet shuffle as he closes in on himself, his posture isn’t as upright as Marc’s and his face. His face is the biggest giveaway.

Those eyes that you’ve stared into for the longest seem like a different pair. They are foreign yet seem familiar.

You have an idea of who this newfound man is.

“Steven?” You murmur hesitantly.

Steven ignores you and goes to sit down on your shared kingsize bed.

You note his shaky hands and wandering eyes, he’s clearly lost and doesn’t know what to do.

“I dunno how this happened.” He blurts out.

You nod, though you’re as confused as he is because you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

Steven watches you carefully as you sit down next to him, deliberately putting space between you two.

He admires your face and is deep in thought when you speak up again.

“So.”

“Pardon?”

You blink and can’t help the smile that paints your face. He’s endearing you think.

“What were you and Marc gossiping about in there?”

You would never pry like this, in fact it’s the first time you’re putting pressure on the man— well, in this case; men.

But you’ve never formally met Steven before. You saw glimpses of him when he’d be reading a book on a sleepless night or making tea for comfort.

Fragments of himself would be left behind like pieces of a puzzle you were meant to solve.

You talked about it with Marc but he always seemed uncomfortable with the idea of letting you meet them.

You never forced Marc to show Steven or Jake but it was taking a bit of a toll on your marriage.

Steven saw it from the inside and wished so desperately to front himself but Marc was stronger.

Apparently not this time.

“You.” He whispers.

“Me?”

He nods slightly, his soft eyes filled with adoration for you.

You chuckle lightly in surprise.

“All good things I hope?”

Steven’s gaze shifts down to the carpet, visibly faltering in his movement.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no, no! You could never make me uncomfortable.”

There’s a warmth that spreads across the apples of your cheeks and it seeps into the skin. It makes you smile and Steven swears he can see the sun.

“Oh, bollocks. Marc’s gonna chew me out later for that.”

“And why is that?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Before Steven can take another breath in his name, Marc comes out and banishes him back inside.

“Marc! You missed it! Steven and I were having a wonderful conversation.” You exclaim with excitement.

Marc is not impressed nor interested.

“Yeah, I bet.” He grumbles.

He stands up and walks out of the bedroom, not necessarily having a set destination in mind.

“What’s wrong?” You follow him outside and into the living room.

Marc heaves out an exasperated sigh, his hands rub at his face and you can feel the tension rising from his body.

You gulp in fear of doing something wrong but is it wrong to speak of the elephant in the room? Literally.

Is it really wrong to address the man who’s technically the third man in y’all’s relationship?

“Did I do something?”

Marc looks at your nervous form.

It’s quiet for a few moments and the way his eyes dart from and to you seems as though there’s something you’re missing.

“No.” He softly sighs. “You didn’t.”

You take that as a sign to step close and he lets his body fall back on the couch behind him.

You follow in pursuit.

“It’s… complicated.”

He finally gives you something.

“More complicated than you being the vessel of an Egyptian God?”

The soft lilt of your voice gives away your teasing and he huffs out a laugh.

“No. No I suppose not.” The corners of his lips turn upward slightly.

He holds your hand in his and rubs your knuckles with his thumb.

“Steven has a crush on you.”

He confesses this with such seriousness that you can’t help but giggle a little.

“Wait, what?” You tilt your head a bit.

“Don’t.” He groans.

Your eyebrows jump a bit and your eyes widen with realization.

“Oh wow.” You gasp.

He doesn’t say anything but you know he’s thinking.

“Are you jealous?” You muse.

He snaps his head at you mid-conversation with Steven.

“What.”

The baritone in his voice has become even deeper if possible and it lowkey sends shivers down your spine.

But you don’t back down. “You heard me.”

He scoffs indignantly but you know it’s not towards you.

“I’m not… jealous.”

He says it like it’s a disease. (it is! get well soon marc!)

You roll your eyes at his poor display of a stern disagreement.

“You literally sound like you don’t believe it yourself.”

“Okay, whatever. I’m not jealous.”

You shrug and prop your head on your hand, your elbow resting on a pillow nearby.

The look on your face is that of a shit-eating grin and eyes that narrow when you know you’ve caught him in a lie.

Marc shakes his head and rolls his tongue over his teeth.

You take it upon yourself and shift to being on your knees. You lean over and take his face in your hands and squish his cheeks to make his lips protrude.

“Let me talk to him.”

You’re gentle yet firm and he can’t resist it when you take charge.

He’d call it unfair but you’d say it how it is: strategic.

He reluctantly rolls his eyes back and you let go of his face, leaning back to rest on your knees.

You know it’s Steven when his eyes are doe-like and he looks at you with uncertainty.

“Welcome back.” You greet cheerily.

“Why do you want to talk to me?”

His tone makes you feel bad, like it’s an inconvenience for you to speak to him.

His hands are in his lap and his eyes land on the coffee table in his line of sight.

“Well, I’ve never met you in all my time of being Mrs. L/n-Spector.”

He nods but still refuses to make eye contact.

“Steven?” You murmur.

Said man tentatively meets your eyes and you offer a sympathetic smile.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep and make you upset but I don’t believe Marc means to be so…”

You don’t want to call him jealous and risk never seeing this delightful man again.

“Possessive?” He tries.

You give him a pointed look and smile, letting him know that you feel the same.

“You said it, not me.” You chuckle.

A smile of his own grows and he feels himself growing fond of you by the second.

“It’s embarrassing.” He says.

“What is?”

He gulps. “Well, I think you’re quite lovely but saying I ‘have a crush’ on you seems a bit childish.”

Steven fiddles with the hem of his shirt and you nod.

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute.”

You’re not entertaining him and you’re not saying you’re in love with him.

You’ve thought about it before and even brought it up to Marc.

Being married to him is a commitment you’re making to him.

What about the other two boys he hides inside? It’s not like you and him can ignore them, they’re a part of his life and were there way before you.

Marc thought you were joking but he also thought about introducing you to them. Well, until Steven showed interest. Then, it became all too real.

Steven looks at you with hope and you can’t help but find him adorable.

“Marc says to stop flirting or he’ll banish me forever.”

You guffaw at that, not believing he’d go against your wishes.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Steven’s eyebrows jump up slightly, truly questioning how much influence you have over a man like Marc Spector.

But then again, you are his wife.

The next morning is quiet. Too quiet.

Your arm stretches over to feel Marc’s body but you don’t. The sheets are cold and serve as a stark contrast to the warmth you felt prior.

Maybe he has some urgent work.

You freshen up and pad to the kitchen when you see a kettle and smell an aroma that excites you.

There’s a yellow sticky note on the side of the kettle that reads, It’s my favorite, as well with a smiley face drawn on the bottom.

You look inside and aren’t disappointed to find your favorite tea inside.

“Ugh. He’s so sweet.” You gush quietly to yourself.

Later that night, you’re waiting up on Marc to come to bed.

You’ve done your nighttime routine and are snug in bed when you hear the door creak open.

“Babe?” You call out.

You don’t get an answer and so, you stand up to turn the light off and are alert with a metal bat.

You hear the footsteps pad to your direction and are met with a familiar silhouette.

“You scared me, you asshole.”

Annoyed, you put the bat up and turn on the lamp light on your bedside but pause when you see the partially illuminated figure.

Your breath is caught in your throat at the sight of his eyes.

The eyes, you notice, are the one part of his body that will always betray him.

His body language and facial expressions are calculated, along with his mind. But the eyes show what he’s really thinking inside.

“You’re not Marc.” You observe.

You hear the man before you sigh and he slides his cap off.

His knuckles turn white from how tight he’s gripping it but it doesn’t reveal what he’s thinking.

It’s the first time you don’t know.

“Go to sleep.” His gruff voice sounds.

You’re taken aback by the roughness in it but by using context clues, you know this is Jake.

Your lips part from surprise at how you so easily follow his instructions.

Is this how Marc feels?

You have your eye on him as you lift up the blanket and step inside, letting the bat rest against the wall and bed frame.

He’s scarily still, you’d think he’s a standing corpse if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He’s stiff yet swift in his movements, ready to leave you be.

“Jake?”

He stops with his feet outside the door, turning his head to where you can see his side profile.

You take his silence and side profile as a sign to continue.

“Good night.”

He tips his head down once as a silent nod to your farewell.

He mutedly says it back, you almost don’t hear it.

He shuts the door and you take the silence to yourself to let this experience settle down.

You just met Jake. Without any begging, without any coaxing. He allowed himself to be shown to you and even bid you good night.

You giggle to yourself unbeknownst to the fact that Jake is listening.

A ghost of a smile is on the tip of his lips and he holds the amusement in as he walks to the couch, preparing to rest for the night.

He dreams of you and it’s slow, lasting and blue.