#Steven is better than Marc everyday

[melodygatesauthor]

The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story

dbf!Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake -

Steven's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 9.4k (apparently I can't write anything short anymore)

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Marc since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his beer as if to say cheers. He still looked so rough around the edges, just how you always remembered him. You looked him up and down, trying not to make it seem too obvious.

Has he been working out?

“Congrats. College…wow.” He took a swig off his beer bottle, “all grown up.”

You gave him a nervous giggle, “yeah, I guess.” You felt inexplicably shy all of a sudden, you tried to make small talk, “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

He shrugged, “been keeping busy, staying out of trouble,” he gulped some of his beer down and then looked at you with those brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when the light hit them just right.

You felt your cheeks getting flush for what felt like, at the time, nothing worth getting flustered over. Marc was handsome, anyone could see that, but you’d never looked at him that way. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. Then again, he’d never looked at you like that. Were you imagining things? He seemed to be sneaking glances at different parts of your body. His eyes trekked over your neck, down to the crevice of your slightly low cut shirt, beyond your denim jeans and finally onto the floor which is when he rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Still fixing toilets?” You sipped your drink, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Yeah…well…sort of. I do all kinds of handyman stuff, not just toilets. I also do home inspections.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over to you.

You read the print and huffed out a laugh at the obvious pun.

Marc Spector

The Home In-Spector

“It’s dumb I know.” He rolled his eyes, taking another drink.

You raised an eyebrow, “I think it’s clever. Definitely memorable.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting the casual conversation. “Oh, I gotta go, see you around, Marc.”

“Yeah…you too.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Marc. You remembered the roaring laughter over a dumb joke that Marc made at your expense. You grumbled and gave him the finger. You weren’t actually upset, and had a hard time keeping yourself from bursting out into laughter as well. Marc flipped you off in return and smiled at you. Marc’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling you had was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol, that was the only explanation.

A little while later, you were tipsy and felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, no matter how hard you tried to keep them open.

They closed again, and when you opened them this time, it was only you and Marc left around the fire.

Closed again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sudden movement stirred you awake. You were being carried by a set of strong arms. Did your dad come back to get you? No. He would’ve woken you up so you could walk to bed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s shoulders and buried your face in his neck. Marc, you thought.

He smelled warm, like he’d been in the sun all day. Your lips brushed the soft skin there, and you felt a strong sense of comfort wash over you. Alcohol had a way of making you forget to filter your emotions, and right now you were hoping Marc would never let go. You didn’t know why you felt that way. None of it made sense. It’s not like he’d made any sort of pass at you during your growing up, and he had certainly been respectful all night.

So why did you feel like you wanted him to fill you up with everything he had?

It had to be the alcohol. You drank too much, and it was making you feel flirty, and foolish, like you didn’t care about the consequences of any bad decisions you might be inclined to make. Marc sat you down on your bed. You didn’t lay down yet, you just sat there, clutching his shirt so he couldn’t walk away. He grabbed your wrist and looked down at you through his own hooded and intoxicated gaze.

“Marc,” you said softly.

He knelt down, eyes level with yours, “what?”

You looked between his eyes. What did you want from him? Did you expect him to throw away a friendship that was older than you’d been on the planet so that you could fulfill this seemingly random and new feeling? If you would just let go of his damn shirt, he could leave and you would go to bed. It was so simple, but you felt an ache between your legs and a burning desire for him that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Don’t go, please.”

He gave you a gentle smirk, “I have to go to bed,” his smile almost killed you, “you gotta let go of my–”

“Take care of me first…don’t you know what you did to me?”

You were both breathing so heavily, and his eyes kept darting to your lips. You weren’t sure who dove in first, but you both started kissing each other hungrily, motions made sloppier from the alcoholic influence you were both under. Marc continued to claim every moan that left your mouth while you guided his hand down to the waist of your pants. He tucked his thick fingers in and felt between your soaking wet folds.

“Holy shit,” he commented in a breathy rasp, “did I really make you that fuckin’ wet? How long have you felt this way about me?”

“A long time,” you lied.

You always had found him attractive. Objectively speaking, Marc was a good looking man. Regarding wanting to let him take you on every surface in your childhood home? That feeling was brand new to you. Something between the drunken fogginess and the sweet way he carried you changed something in your DNA. You needed him…badly.

All too suddenly, Marc gained a conscience. He pulled his hand free from your pants, and backed away from you quickly. He looked you up and down, running a hand through his hair, eyes plagued with guilt. It was all too clear that this fantasy of yours was over. Whatever this moment was that the intoxication had afforded you, ended with some sense of clarity that tore through Marc.

“No, no.”

That was all he could say, not one word more before he left your room in haste. He didn’t need to say anything else. You knew deep down you were dumb for thinking Marc would actually do anything with you. You knew that was a one-time thing, and that he would want to go about as though it never happened. For your father’s sake, you would take an oath of silence, despite the feelings you were keeping buried deep.

----

The next morning at breakfast, Marc had flat out refused to make eye contact with you. Even when you asked him to pass the orange juice, he kept his head down when handing it to you over the turntable. You scowled when you took it from him, but took the bottle without added drama. Of course you understood that things were awkward, but if he kept treating you like you didn’t exist, that was even weirder. If he thought blatantly avoiding you in front of your dad wasn’t suspicious, he was sorely mistaken.

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to talk to Marc who, at that moment, was clenching his jaw and pretending to look at his phone. The man still used a Motorola flip phone. You couldn’t imagine there was anything very interesting on a phone without internet access, unless he was trying to avoid you deliberately.

“Marc, I’m not going to say anything to him or anyone, but you acting like this is more suspicious than if we fucked on the table in front of him so–”

“Can you please watch your mouth. Don’t say things like that.” He said in a harsh whisper, “I just don’t want to think about it, alright?” His thick Chicago accent always came out when he got irritated.

“I’m fine with that, I just mean…you’re not being very subtle. Just pretend nothing happened and treat me like I exist…please.”

When your dad came back downstairs, Marc seemed to make a better effort to act like he always did around you, and it worked. Even you had a couple moments where you almost forgot that there was something awkward between you two. You kept reminding yourself it was only a kiss, and it was only a kiss, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want so much more.

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Marc arrived. You didn’t know he was there, and nearly screamed when you heard him whistling downstairs as you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his truck with his company logo on the side. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was quickly replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. The only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel his lips on yours again.

After you changed into your shorts and a tanktop, you decided to make your way downstairs to see why he was there in the first place. Marc was laying under the sink, cabinet doors open on either side of him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed under the tight t-shirt he wore, and the dark trail of hair that disappeared under the waist of his pants on his exposed abdomen.

“Marc.” You said gently, as though hearing your voice any volume higher might send him into a rage.

He froze, letting out an exasperated sigh that split through the room. He clanked some of his tools and grunted as he sat up to look at you. He held a furrowed brow, daring you to say something about the night you shared two weeks ago; daring you to bring the memory of that deep shame back to the forefront of his mind. You found yourself having a hard time speaking all of a sudden.

“Look, your dad asked me to come by and fix a few things, just stay out of my way and–”

“M-my air conditioner isn’t working and I was hoping you could take a look at it.” You spat your words out so fast you weren’t sure if he would even be able to understand you.

There was, of course, nothing wrong with your air conditioner, but you wanted to get Marc in your room, alone again, if only for a second. He stood up, aggravation still apparent in his furrowed brow.

“Your ac is broken?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that your job? I just need you to look at it.”

He grabbed his toolbelt off the ground and followed you up the stairs with a look that told you he was unimpressed, and hardly believed that you needed him to actually fix something. When you got to your room, he went to the window where your perfectly functioning air conditioner sat, and you silently latched the door behind yourself. You felt it getting harder to breathe.

He turned the air conditioner on to test it, learning immediately that he’d been tricked into going up there. He turned slowly, brow furrowed in frustration. Despite his obvious aggravation, you noticed the quick shift of his eyes taking in your frame before looking back at your face. He crossed his arms tightly, scowling at you.

“The hell are you trying to pull huh?” His accent came out in his peeved tone. He walked up to you, but you stayed firmly in front of the door. “Move.”

You looked up at him, “Marc please, I can’t stop thinking about you since we kissed.”

He grabbed your shoulders roughly and you thought he might slot his lips over yours in a flurry of breathless kisses, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to scolding you as though you were a child, which only served to piss you off.

“It was a drunk mistake that never should’ve happened. I let it go, you should too,” his voice was low and harsh.

It was crushing to hear that he wasn’t even going to entertain the thought, though it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. Marc was always trying to do what he considered to be the right thing, and now was no different. You were his best friend’s daughter. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything with you. But when you looked over at his flexing biceps on either side of you, and felt the strength in the way his hands held onto your shoulders, you couldn’t help the way you wanted him.

“I can’t. I…I think about you almost every night.”

There was another cold silence, save for the hum of the air conditioner that was still working exceptionally well. You weren’t normally so forward, but it was true. Despite your attempts to not think about him since your encounter, you’d failed. Most nights since then were spent with your fingers two knuckles deep in your soaking wet cunt, thinking about all the ways you wanted Marc to take you under your father’s roof.

“You’re stupid you know that? Just stop, you’re my friend’s kid. He know you act like this? Huh?”

If his tone wasn’t evidence enough that he was through with the conversation, his actions were. Marc moved you aside by force and then made a quick escape from your house. He hadn’t even finished working on the sink downstairs. You wondered if Marc was going to tell your dad about your conversation that day, but when your dad got home that night, he never said a word about it. You tried to move on, despite the ache in your chest.

----

You wondered if Marc would ever come back to your house again, until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he was coming back to finish the sink. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about it. Your dad left, and you rushed around getting ready for Marc to show up. You knew he’d told you to back off, but thoughts of him continued to plague your mind and you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

What the hell am I gonna wear, you asked yourself.

It was foolish to think about what you were going to wear in a silly attempt at seducing your dad’s best friend. You couldn’t even begin to understand why you were attempting to seduce your dad’s best friend. It was obvious that he didn’t want you, he’d pushed you out of the way the other day. That didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to brush your lips over the soft skin of his throat again. It didn’t stop you from thinking about what his thick fingers would feel like stretching out your pussy while you dug your nails into his toned shoulders.

When he finally arrived, you waited to make sure he was working before you went downstairs. You were silent, knowing that alerting him to your presence might make him run off. You’d chosen to wear a short little skirt, a tank-top, and you opted out of your bra and panties. You needed to make it as easy as you could for him to take what he wanted from you. Despite the way he pushed you away, you knew he wanted you.

He was working hard, twisting a wrench around one of the pipes. His arm obstructed his view so he didn’t see you coming. Without a word, and without his knowing, you walked over to him, standing on either side of his thighs. He noticed you when you dropped to your knees, straddling him. He looked at you with that signatured furrowed brow.

“What the…you’re starting to be a real fuckin’ problem, you know that?” His voice was dark and threatening.

“Am I?” You asked in a coy tone, dragging your cunt over his crotch, feeling the brush of the denim against your clit.

He sat up fast, and you thought he might shove you off of him, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand grabbed your hip firmly. You gasped when his face got close to yours, eyes narrowed and wracked with guilt. His nose brushed against yours. You felt your hips involuntarily rock against the growing bulge behind his jeans.

“What’s it gonna take for you to let this go, huh?” He used one hand to push your skirt back while the other slid up your inner thigh. “What’s it gonna take for you to stop this shit?”

You put both of your hands on his shoulders for stability. His fingers found your folds and you felt your entire body surge with desire. Marc’s chest rumbled when he leaned in to steal your moans in a mess of deep kisses. His grasp on your thigh was so tight it left divots in your skin. He pulled you forward, sliding his middle finger deep into your channel.

“Fuck, I get you that worked up?” He said against your lips.

You hummed an affirmative into his mouth. He slid another finger in, and already you felt the delicious stretch of his thick digits testing your hole. It was a tight fit, two that is, and it felt better than you could’ve dreamed. If you’d known it was going to be like this, you might’ve been more persistent when he came up to your room the week before. He curved them, touching that sweet spot that made you whine in response.

“Where are all the boys your age? Why aren’t you going after them, hm? You like pissing me off?”

You didn’t want to answer him, because the truth was stupid. You didn’t care about the “boys your age”. Most of them wouldn’t know their way around a pussy if you had an arrow pointing to all the important parts for them. They also didn’t know you like Marc did. Marc was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to judge your prom date with a threatening glare if the guy ever tried to hurt you, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to properly use your pepper spray keychain.

He was there for you now when you were wet and dripping down his wrist while moaning one desperately hungry kiss after another over his lips. The third finger hurt a little, but the ache of the burn became more bearable the more he worked in and out of you. Marc brought his face to your throat, leaving soft kisses there that had your cunt fluttering over his thick fingers.

“M-Marc I’m…I’m so close I–”

“Sh, just shut up. Don’t want to hear it.”

You didn’t know if it was the guilt causing him to act so cruel, but it didn’t matter to you at that moment. You were there, seconds from sweet release, but the beep of a car door locking froze you both to your core. Marc pulled his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty. You stood fast and ran up the stairs quickly, leaving Marc down there to deal with your father. You felt bad, but knew he could handle it.

When you got to your room, you could hear them start talking downstairs.

“Hey Marc!” Your dad said as he walked in, “how’s it coming?”

You heard Marc huff out a laugh, “it’s not.”

----

It would be a lie to say you weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Marc coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. You wondered if he was excited too, or if he wished that he’d never met your dad now that things had become more complicated between the two of you. Complicated wasn’t even the right word for it, it wasn’t like this was something you did regularly. You hadn’t even seen him since he fingered you by the sink two weeks ago. He seemed to be limiting his time spent at your house those days.

You understood, you weren’t stupid, but at the same time it didn’t change how badly you wanted to see him again. In fact, most days, he was all you thought about. Something about him was intoxicating. Maybe it was the danger of getting caught? Or perhaps it was the thrill of something new? It could also be the fact that he was older, and you had a feeling he knew exactly how to make you come undone like no one ever had before.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He ran his hand over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. You felt your heart rate picking up.

“I’m just here to check in on you, I don’t want any funny business.” He said firmly.

You gulped, and nodded, “okay, yeah that’s…I understand.”

He dropped his hands to his pockets. You watched his entire body relax before your eyes. While you understood that he didn’t want to continue the little thing you two had going on, it didn’t change the fact that you still wanted him, badly. Marc’s face looked irritated, nothing new there, but there was a mild softness to his brow.

“Well, I’m just watching this dumb movie…do you wanna watch with me?” You gestured to the other side of the couch.

Marc sighed before nodding and walking over to sit as far from you as possible on the other side of the couch. You pressed play and sat in silence for some time. Just being in his presence was making your mind buzz. You couldn’t stop replaying him fingering you by the sink on repeat in your head. When you looked over at him, his eyes were trained on the television, not because he was interested, no, it was painfully clear that he was trying to avoid eye contact with you. You couldn’t sit there anymore. The ache between your legs was growing and if you didn’t go take care of it, you were going to do something to upset him.

“I have to use the bathroom, you don’t need to pause, I'll be right back.”

You went upstairs and closed the bathroom door behind yourself. You knew it would be suspicious if you spent too much time in there, but at the very least you needed to clean yourself up. You were soaked, so wet that you probably left a mark on the couch downstairs and you didn’t know what to do. What if he saw it? Surely he’d be upset if he thought you might be thinking about him again.

When you were finished wiping up, you opened the door. You were fully prepared to go down there and tell him to leave, but you didn’t make it that far. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, eyes looking you over like he might devour you.

“Marc I–”

He stole your next words when he slotted his lips over yours. Your mind went blank, focusing only on the way his tongue tasted when it entangled with yours. His hands grabbed your shoulders, sliding down until he found purchase on your hips. A soft moan slipped through your lips while you brought your hands to the waistband of his pants. You weren’t going to beat around the bush this time, you knew exactly what you wanted and you intended to take it. 

You brushed your fingers over his pubic hair, relishing the way it felt against your skin. Marc lifted you by your rear, and you were forced to grab his broad shoulders for stability. He carried you to your room and gently laid you down on the bed, never disconnecting his lips from yours. Marc started grinding his hips against you, the hard prod of his erection apparent through his jeans.

“This what you wanted from me?” He looked at you with a combination of anger, guilt, and lust, “think you can even handle it?”

You whined, “yes, I need it, please Marc.”

In a blur, you and Marc got your clothes off so your bare chests were against each other. His skin was deceptively soft. The feeling of his thick cock gliding over your inner thigh was maddening. You arched your back upward and brought your hands around the base of Marc’s neck. He used both of his hands to pin your wrists down above your head.

“You turned out to be such a fuckin’ brat you know that?” He was almost growling out his words.

“Guess you’ll have to put me in my place-OH SHIT!”

Marc thrust himself into you and buried his face in your neck. You weren’t quiet while he moved at an unforgiving pace. His lips dragged over your throat, leaving soft kisses in their wake. The juxtaposition of between his harsh fucking and tender kissing was making your mind go blank. Everything he did felt so good, better than you could’ve imagined. You still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Marc-feels so good fuck-yes!” You shouted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I bet it does honey, bet it feels really fucking good. You happy now? You glad you got me to fuck you? Hm?!”

Marc was taking his guilty conscience out on you. He picked his head up and looked down at you, grabbing your jaw tightly in his hand. You whimpered at his firm grip, but you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. His lips were pulled together in a thin line while he huffed in tandem with his thrusts. A few stray hairs fell down from their normally slicked back place and into his eyes. Fuck he’s so pretty.

“Yeah, I am,” you taunted, knowing it would only serve to piss him off even more. “Are you really going to act like-oh shit-like it doesn’t feel good? You make me so wet-fuck!”

He was slamming your bed against the wall with how hard he would pull back and then snap his hips forward into you. You were writhing underneath him from the sensations all over your body, but you couldn’t move your arms still. He went back to sucking on your neck, and you were surprised when his hands slid off of your wrists and moved to intertwine your fingers in his.

Marc was being intimate with you.

Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, he was starting to nuzzle his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent. His movements slowed to a more even pace, as though he were trying to savor every delicious movement, rather than fuck the guilt away. You turned your head to the side, meeting with Marc’s lusty and hooded gaze. Electricity sparked in your stomach at the sight of him.

“Marc–”

He started kissing you again, as though the sound of your voice was going to cause him harm if he had to hear you speak any longer. You wondered if it reminded him of who he was sleeping with. You didn’t care that he was your dad’s best friend anymore, you hadn’t for a while. Nothing had ever felt so good in every way. His hands squeezed around you tighter, and you heard him start moaning louder into you.

“Gonna fill your little pussy up baby, then we’ll see how mouthy you are.”

You couldn’t speak as your climax approached faster than you’d anticipated. All you could do was let your eyes roll back and your body melt into the bed. You felt your cunt squeezing around his thick cock as he filled you with his hot spend. Fuck he sounds so good. He was moaning deep rasps into your ear while he fucked his cum into you.

When his thrusts finally slowed and you were both a sated and panting mess, he pulled out of you. You mumbled about the towel on your dresser that he used to clean himself off and then toss to you. You wiped yourself up and then slowly stood, starting to change into your clothes.

“You can stay,” you said to Marc, hoping that he wasn’t going to just fuck you and leave, but you knew better.

Marc finished getting dressed and then he looked at you, brows furrowed and guilt etched into every pore on his face. You knew that he was going to say no, so when the words left his lips you weren’t surprised. That didn’t change the disappointment that you took with you downstairs while saying goodbye.

“We can’t do this again,” Marc said coldly in the doorway, “it’s done…alright?”

You nodded sullenly. He nodded in return and left. You were alone again.

You weren’t sure why it made you emotional to hear him say the words ‘it’s done…alright?’, but you felt a pit in your stomach. Was it because he’d been so intimate with you not ten minutes ago? Was it because he made you feel like no one else ever had? Perhaps it was a combination of both. Either way, you spent the evening finishing that terrible movie with your face buried in a box of tissues, just begging for sleep to take you away from your overwhelming feelings.

----

You didn’t see Marc again for three weeks. So much happened in three weeks and you were determined to act normal when you saw him again after that time had passed. When your dad had told you he was coming over for dinner, you froze. It had been a while since you and Marc had been in the same room, and even longer since you’d been in the same room together with your father present. The pit in your stomach was already forming.

Your phone buzzed on the counter and you picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. What were you holding out for anyway? For Marc to come in and sweep you off your feet? To tell your dad that he’d been sleeping with you and that you were going to be together now? Maybe if you both had a death wish, that would be a perfect plan.

When he walked into the house, burgundy shirt hugging his chest a little too tight for your sanity, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Marc.” You said softly as he made his way to the dining room.

“Hey.” He actually looked at you this time, as if he wasn’t going to burn alive by meeting your gaze.

The heat rose to your cheeks in a rush, making you feel lightheaded. You sat down at the table and both Marc and your father joined. The small talk was just what you needed; your dad asking Marc how business was going and Marc asking you about your job hunt. Marc was making a career out of drinking his wine. If anything was a sign of his nervousness it was that. You were glad that you weren’t the only one feeling the awkward weight in the air.

“So, why don’t you tell Marc about…you know,” your dad gave you a knowing look.

You shifted nervously, “um, well…” you looked into Marc’s dark brown eyes. His brow was knitted together tightly, “I’m going on a date tomorrow with a guy I met at the coffee shop up the road.”

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. It was quiet except for the ticking clock above the archway to the kitchen. Your silverware clanked on the plate while you poked the lettuce from your salad. You looked back up at Marc.

“You like this guy?” Marc finally asked, never taking his gaze off of you.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “only talked to him a couple of times.”

Marc paused before responding, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with.”

This conversation wasn’t about you and Joey.

“Yes…and someone who isn’t going to just take advantage of me,” you stabbed your fork into your food harshly.

“Oh definitely,” he sounded sarcastic, “and make sure you’re careful with what you wear and how you act, some guys your age might get the wrong idea about the kind of girl you are.”

Asshole.

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Marc were having right under his nose.

“So are you saying I dress like a slut?” You stared at him, waiting to see how he planned to answer that one.

“Alright now you’re just acting like a brat, I never said–”

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen and trying to end the awkward back and forth that you, admittedly, started.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Marc continued your eternal staredown that your dad seemed oblivious to. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Marc would’ve had enough of your attitude and never want to speak to you again.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Marc working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Marc twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him quizzically, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked.

Marc sat down next to you, leaning over so his face was close. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you felt him pulling you closer.

“You know exactly what I’m doing in here,” he said in a low whisper.

Of course you did. His lips were soft and tasting of liquor when he pressed them to yours. His tongue tasted even more like alcohol, but you didn’t mind. Whether it was the intoxication, or maybe he was just more comfortable with you now, his tongue felt soft while it melted against yours.

“So you have a date? Hm?” Marc looked at you, eyes dark and brow furrowed.

So that’s what this was about.

You nodded, “mhm.”

“He can’t do for you what I can do honey.” He dropped his hand from your cheek and rested it on your waist. He kissed your neck right by your ear and said, “I know just what you like.”

“I can go on a date with him…in public.” A breathy moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your skin more.

He stopped and looked at you again, “that’s not fair.”

“Nope it’s not.”

“I could take you out if–”

“But you can’t so–”

“-so, he can’t make you feel the way–”

“Maybe he can–”

“Shut the hell up.” Marc’s mouth covered yours, rendering you silent save for the moans escaping you.

He slid you forward so you were laying down and then pulled your covers off your body. That’s when he noticed that you were in nothing but a t-shirt and your underwear. His mouth closed over yours, and his hand trekked over your lower abdomen and tucked into the hem of your panties. You felt the pad of his thick middle finger brush against your clit. You could hear the wet sound it made when he started circling there.

“You’re such a little brat, you know that?” He was so breathless.

“I know,” you said just above a whisper. You arched your cunt toward him, chasing the feeling his fingers gave you .”You sound like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not, you can do whatever you want, not gonna stop you.”

“I want you, and you do keep stopping me.”

Marc sounded like an animal the way he grumbled and pulled your panties down to your ankles. You grabbed his pants and worked on getting them off, hearing his belt clank against the floor when he tossed them aside. You writhed under him, feeling the way his fat cock brushed your inner thigh. You could’ve cried it felt so fucking good to just have him touching you. Marc was right…that other guy would never be able to give you what he did. He could never make you feel the way Marc made you feel.

His erection was prodding at your hole, the leaking tip testing to make sure you were ready to take him. You grabbed his hip, pulling forward while arching into him, feeling it go in just a little further. You were feeling needy and impatient.

“Marc please,” you begged, “please.”

He dropped down to his elbows, resting on either side of your head and caging you in. You leaned up and kissed him. One of his large hands cupped your clothed breast as he thrusted full to the hilt inside of you. If not for his mouth covering yours, you would’ve screamed and awoken your father who was sleeping only two doors down in the hall. He pumped slowly, being careful not to make the bed creak.

“Better be quiet, keep your pretty little mouth shut honey.” Marc was whispering harshly while glaring down at you.

The head of his cock dragged against that spot deep inside that you could never quite reach on your own. You choked on the cries that your lungs tried to punch out of you. You wondered if this other guy would make you feel like your guts were being pushed aside every time he plunged his length deep inside of you. You wondered if he would make it hard for you to breathe every time his girth twitched in response to your fluttering walls. Mostly, you wondered if he would act like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen every time his eyes landed on yours.

A gasp fell from your lips.

“You trying to wake up daddy? Hm? Want him to hear his little girl getting railed out of her mind?”

“N-no it just…it feels so good,” you whined. 

“I know baby, oh yes I know,” his voice was low, “no one else can make you feel like I do, right?” His voice was rough and wrecked.

“No one…n-no one, Marc.” You were struggling to keep your voice down so he covered your mouth with a large hand.

“That’s my girl.”

My girl, you thought. He said you were his girl…you wondered if he meant those words or if it was the alcohol talking.

“I’m always going to know what you need. I’m always going to know how to make you cry and squirm and fucking-fuck-baby-squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight-shit.” He started moving faster, you heard the bed creaking and you began to panic.

“Mmmm!” You couldn’t get a word out.

You felt numb, and at some point his hand became slick over your lips with the drool that leaked out beyond your control. Your mind was gone, and all you could focus on was the pleasure rolling through you with every smooth glide of his cock through your channel. Your body trembled beneath him. Your knuckles ached from how hard you grabbed his hips.

“Are you going to be a good and quiet little girl for me when you come? Or are you going to embarrass yourself, hm?” Marc’s grunts were getting louder and you started to feel nervous. “Oh honey, you feel so good. Such a tight little pussy baby-f-fuck.”

You both came at the same time, bodies pressed into each other as tight as you could so you could feel it. You noticed the way his abdomen flexed against your tummy with every pleasured groan that escaped him. You noticed how his lips tightened along with his closed eyelids; you noticed the way his cock pulsated, stretching you out while filling you to the brim with his hot cum as your cunt clenched around him firmly.

God you just wished he could stay. You wished so badly that he could just lay there in your arms when he was done and the two of you could drift off to sleep together. There was hope though. He called you his girl. He would only say that if it meant…

“Marc,” you said finally as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Yeah?” He slid his underwear on over each leg.

“If you’re saying I’m your girl, does that mean we’re…you know?”

He looked at you with a raised brow, “what? Oh…no it’s…it’s not a thing.”

You couldn’t help the heartbreak that fell over you. You weren’t sure what you were honestly expecting. It was dumb to think anything else would’ve come from this. What were you thinking? That Marc really meant he was going to…what…go into your dad’s room and tell him that you were dating now? That he was just going to hold your hand in public and shout to the world that you two were seeing each other despite him being your dad’s best friend?

Of course not. Marc would never. The guilt would eat him alive more than it already had. You were stupid for even suggesting such a thing. He probably wished he’d never slept with you in the first place.

“Oh.”

He sighed and put his hand on the door handle.

“You have a date tomorrow, you should go on it and enjoy it.” He opened the door, letting the light from the hall pour into your bedroom. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“That’s it then? You’re done with this?”

“Never should’ve started this in the first place. Try to have fun. I’m sorry.”

The door closed, and you just felt empty inside. 

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Marc.

He pulled up to you, stopping fast by the sidewalk and getting out of the car. He ran over to you and immediately took off his jacket to put it around your bare arms, but not before muttering about how dumb it was for you to wear something so impractical in the first place. You pulled the coat closer to your body as he opened the passenger’s side door for you and you sat down inside.

You looked like a drowned rat as you observed yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. He was right, you were dumb, but not just for your clothing choices. You were dumb for thinking you could avoid him, for thinking you didn’t want him, and for thinking even for a second that you could possibly grow to love anyone besides him…but he didn’t love you. He’d made that abundantly clear.

The ride to your house was silent, awkwardly so. You felt a pang in your chest over the fact that Marc wasn’t talking. It meant, to you, that he was serious about his words the night before.

“Thanks,” you said as he pulled into the driveway.

He put the car in park and turned off the engine, “couldn’t leave you out there in the rain. Your dad woulda killed me.”

“You can come inside if you want. Dad has some extra beers in the fridge.” You opened your door.

“I probably shouldn’t I–”

You paused for a moment and then muttered, “fine.” You took off his coat and shoved it in his lap. “Goodnight, thanks again for the ride.”

You tried to wait until you got inside to start sobbing, feeling vulnerable and rejected, but you failed, feeling the tears coming down along with the rain. You never should’ve made all those moves on him over the course of the last couple months. It was all a huge mistake, and deep down you’d always known that, but now after your failed date, and Marc’s refusal to comfort you, you felt the weight of your stupidity on your shoulders. The rain drowned out his footsteps, so it shocked you when you turned to close the door and he was holding it open, pushing through to follow you inside. That’s when he noticed the fresh tears escaping you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, furrowing his brow, eyes darting rapidly between yours.

“No, Marc, no I’m not okay!” You walked to the living room and stood with your back to him. “Just go,” you said when you heard him coming in behind you.

“Why are you doing this? Huh?” He was raising his voice at you.

You flipped around and looked at him incredulously, “excuse me? Why am I doing this? You are just as guilty as I am! I am sick of you acting like the victim here.”

He stepped closer, “I know I kissed you that first night, alright? I know I shouldn’t have done that but everything else is on you.”

“Oh so I’m the one who made you walk into my bedroom last night? I’m pretty sure I went to bed and avoided you.” You prodded his heaving chest with your index finger, “you’re the one who came into my room to torture me last night.”

“Oh really? You call that torture?” He stepped closer, chest brushing against yours. “Didn’t sound like torture honey, sounded like you were having the time of your fuckin’ life! You know what’s torture? When your best friend’s kid acts like a goddamn tease and he’s expected to keep his hands to himself.”

“Oh poor YOU! Big strong guy getting seduced by a little girl? Fuck you Marc! You didn’t have to do anything and you know it!” You shoved him with your arms, but he stood like a brick wall, “get the hell out of my house.”

“That what you want? You want me to go?”

His face was close, nose brushing against yours. You were mad at him. You had half a mind to slap him and push him away again, but you didn’t. You stupidly kissed him, letting his body melt into yours. You were crying even harder now, and Marc stopped, pulling back to look at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t ever want you to go, I don’t know what to do but I don’t ever want to be without you.” You said finally, letting your feelings come out.

Marc nodded, breathing heavily while he scooped you up, holding you against him and walking you to the couch with his lips over yours. In under a minute he had his pants around his thighs, and your panties pulled aside so he could plunge his cock into your wet heat once more. You both let out a pleasured cry into the living room.

“Marc please,” you looked at him, not really sure what you were begging for, but you were begging. 

“Please what?” He rolled his hips forward, never taking his eyes off you, “say it honey.”

“Please don’t push me away again, I can’t take it.”

You had more tears trickling down your face. Marc brushed them away with his thumbs. He kissed you softly, moving his hips at a slow, sensual pace. He looked at you with a forlorn expression. He was filled with pain, guilt, and something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He grabbed your hip and started moving faster, pulling you in as he pushed forward. You’d never felt anything like it, the unseen but warm comfort that filled you with his words. You brought your lips to his again, tangling one hand in his hair while the other squeezed the meat of his behind.

His moans made your body feel soft and made you pliant for him. You would’ve given him even more of yourself if it were at all possible. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes boring into you while he continued his smooth glides deep into your cunt. You’d never felt so connected to anyone, you’d never felt so special to anyone.

“Are you ok?” He asked, moving to kiss your cheek.

“Y-yes, mm, yes. Better now.”

“There’s my girl.” He cooed, forcing your stomach to flutter.

“Oh, Marc.” You whined in his ear.

He hummed into your neck, brushing his lips there gently. You felt him thrusting harder, stuffing you and stretching you wider with every forward snap of his hips. His breath was punching out of his lungs right into your skin. You felt an overwhelming swell in your chest, a desire to hold onto him and never let go. You felt him getting harder as he moved. His breathing was heavy and rough against your neck.

“Gonna make you feel good all the time honey, always gonna fill you up,” he started moving faster. “It’s insane how-fuck-how good you feel.”

“Good enough to make a good boy misbehave?” Your giggle was followed by a sharp gasp when Marc nipped the skin on the side of your neck.

He started really fucking you, skipping over the part where he gradually ramped up his speed and moving straight into the skin slapping thrusts you craved. You could tell he was getting close, forcing you so roughly into the couch you thought you might become one with it.

“I think if anyone’s been misbehaving, it’s been you honey, couldn’t just let me be could you? Needed to feel me that bad? You’re always so wet. S-so fucking wet for me.”

“Always so hard for me,” you dug your nails into the flesh of his rear.

“Hear that?” He stopped, sliding back until his cock was about to fall out of you. As he pushed back into you, painstakingly slow, you heard the sound of his cock moving along your slick coated walls until he was flush against you again, “such a wet little girl.”

You were never going to last if he kept talking to you like that. Your pointless contest of who was harder or who was wetter ended with his display. He’d won, and that was fine with you. He was right anyway, you were soaking wet, slick coating your thighs and probably his too. You brought both hands to his cheeks and made him face you, lips pressing to yours while you both approached your climax.

“Are you gonna come for me? Make a mess all over your daddy’s couch?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes!” You kissed him deeper, feeding him your heavy groans while your orgasm overcame you.

You arched into him, feeling his mouth while he kissed through your pleasured cries. He huffed loudly while he came, holding you closely as his cock pulsated hot ropes into you. You felt like, when you were finished, your bodies let out an exhale of relief. All the emotions, feelings and physical desires pent up inside of you both were released with that one moment you shared. You’d come to an agreement, you were going to be together.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked, looking deep into Marc’s eyes while he grew soft inside of you.

He sighed heavily, “we’re going to have to find a way to tell your dad.”

No matter how tough things would be, you knew everything would work out now that you had Marc, and Marc had you.

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

As a friendly reminder, I don't have a taglist anymore. You can follow @melodygatesupdates and turn on notifications for updates.

[oddballwriter]

How would each of them react to the reader telling them that they’re ready for another little one?

Warnings: There's talk about Marc's trauma. Are you surprised? You shouldn't be. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Steven Grant

Okay so I already said in my original Moon Dad post that Steven is the type of man who wants a bunch of kids with you

Like I literally said that he would be the stay at home dad with a million photos of all of his kids and talks all about their achievements, big or small

So when you say you want another kid he's actually been on board since you had/adopted your first

He doesn't really care about the gender of the second kid even though I've made it clear that I just see him being a girl dad

Of course he has a talk with your first to say the whole "You're going to have a sibling and they'll need a lot of attention but that doesn't mean we love you any less.". That whole thing.

Though he does like the idea of having one of each. So if your first is a girl then he'd want a boy next. But again. He doesn't really care.

He's just happy because he gets to have another little one running around

Marc Spector

He'll need a bit to think about it and sit with the idea

It's not that he doesn't want to have a big happy family with you. I actually feel like he does want the whole happy family with the nice house and picket fence

But we know that he has a good amount of self doubt

Sure you and your first helped him kick the idea that he doesn't deserve a happy life but the idea of a second puts him in a funk for a few days for obvious reasons

He will leave it or make the effort to leave it and say yes but he just needs that moment to mentally prepare correctly

Marc does his best to prepare your first into being an older sibling and what that entails and means

It's the usual briefing that most older siblings get when there's going to be a little sibling. "Don't do anything bad or risky because they'll copy you." "They're going to follow you around a lot." "Be gentle"

Marc leaves behind the baggage the best he can and just asks that they love each other the same way he loved his little brother

Being a dad heals him in a way and it heals even more when he has more than one kid

I do think he imagines just two though. Marc hardly even thought of a second child so he's defiantly never thought of a third or more even

But maybe Steven can convince him with the "one for each of us" idea and I mean... the system are like brothers so maybe a third kid wouldn't be too bad

Jake Lockley

I think Jake just says yes because he's just cool with any number of kids you want

He also wouldn't really care about the second one's gender because like I said in my og post he doesn't care if he has a girl she's going to know how to do certain things and maybe how to be rugged

I do feel like he has this sense of pride if he has a good amount of kids. It makes his dad level stronger

I also feel like he gets more methodical in his work and better able to expect the unexpected

Because let's face it. Children are chaotic and unpredictable. So he knows to keep his senses up

Too quiet? Something's happening. Everyone too still? Someone is going to bolt. Giving glances? Plotting.

Jake Lockley knows how this works because everyday his kids are doing something

So yeah, sure. Add another. Add as much as you want.

[remotepixel]

Hey could I please request headcannons for how Marc and Steven would act as yandads?

Hi!! Thank you for requesting, and sorry this took longer than normal. I have mocks rn and some important exams in May and overall struggling to correctly manage my time lol.

Tw: Yanderes themes + off-hand mentions of kidnapping.

Steven:

-Panic is his main mood when dealing with you; he honestly has no clue what he’s doing.

-He’ll be the one you’re around most, and normally the one to deal out any consequences for your actions (the worst you’re getting is a ‘stern warning’ and a ten-minute timeout because he feels bad).

-He’s never risen a child before, and there’s not really any textbooks about how to parent a kid your alter kidnapped. I definitely get that vibe he would read mummy blogs though out of pure desperation (he’s trying his best </3).

-Steven is a big pushover. He’ll weakly defend himself if anyone accuse him - stating he’s just trying to make you happy - but it’s obvious enough that even he can’t defend himself properly.

-He’s pretty easily manipulated through your emotions. If you start crying, or even look slightly sad, the guy immediately backpedals on whatever it was.

-Since he’s super into Ancient Egypt, he knows how important interests can be. He’ll research into what like to try and make conversation. He’ll fully support any hobbies, skills, etc and try his best to support you if he’s able to.

-While writing this, I got this image of Steven, at like fucking 2am, half-asleep, trying desperately to understand all your ‘GenZ’ references like he’s studying some ancient literature. It’s an excuse to talk to you so he’ll take it, but god he wished you were a Ennead fanatic or something to make this a bit easier.

-He gives the vibe of randomly dropping some phrases that he hears you say to try and bond. He’ll probably give up after the first time though because you just stared blankly at him and he couldn’t deal with the embarrassment.

Marc:

-I guess it makes sense but Marc and Steven are both pretty similar in this situation, Marc just likes putting up a ‘i’m in control’ façade because he can’t correctly deal with his emotions (same).

-He’s even more scared than Steven, just better at hiding it. Obviously, his view on parental figures has been greatly screwed over by his own childhood, and despite vowing to himself he would never be the same, he always worries that he’ll cross that line.

-I think out of the two of them, he’d probably be the one to kidnap you, assuming that’s what happened, but he’ll be distant at the start.

-It’s not that he doesn’t want to comfort you, he just has no clue how to do it. And he will much rather show his love in his own way than mess up with his words.

-You’ll find little things you like around the apartment, or your favourite food just happens to be the one he brought for tonight.

-Honestly, I think he’ll also be a pushover. As much as he probably shits on Steven for being so, he can’t stand to see you disappointed, and he doesn’t have the ‘luxury’ (he never asks) of speaking to you everyday like Steven does.

-After a few months, he’ll start to be more open - small smiles, etc etc - but it depends on you mostly. If you seem happier, he’ll take over the body more, maybe for a movie night or a board game.

-If you’re just as or more angry/sad than at the start, he’s remaining firmly inside the headspace when you’re around. He’d rather live through Steven than have to confront the familiarly haunting look on your face.

A bit random but I have this cute thought of them putting more mirrors (or just any sort of reflective surface) around the apartment so both of them can hang out with you, even if only one can control the body.

[winniethewife]

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs (Moon Knight System X F!reader)

Prompt: Dancing

Words:430/515 w lyrics

“And now for the first time, it gives me great pleasure to introduce, Mr. and Mrs.Spector!” The DJ Announces as Marc and his bride walk out on to the dance floor. Marc never thought he would get married. He never thought anyone would love him like that. But here he was on his wedding day dancing with someone who did love him, loved him more than he could ever hope. As the song started she wraps her arms around his neck as he found her hips and they swayed in time with the song. His eyes meet hers and he smiles. He had the rest of his life to look into these eyes, the rest of his life to hold her, the rest of his life to love her. Starting now everything in his life revolved around her. She is his life, his love, his…forever.

Hold me close and hold me fast the magic spell you cast, This is la vie en rose, When you kiss me heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose.

Steven was just as in love with her since the day they met. As the song filled the flat, he remembered watching their first dance from within the headspace. All these years later shes just as beautiful as that day. He held her in his arms as they spun in place, her soft sweet laugh in the air, as he trips over his feet. When he rights himself he looks into her eyes. She’s perfect. She’s everything. He smiles.

“Got a bit tangled up there? eh?” He chuckles

“’s alright Steven.” She says with a smile. Her smile lights up the whole room. He would do anything to get her to smile. She was the light of his life. The thing that made it all worth it. He pulled her in close, pressing his fore head to hers.

“Yeah…’s alright.”

When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart, A world where roses bloom, and when you speak, angels sing from above, Everyday words seem to turn into love songs.

She and Jake were at a party, one of his underworld contacts he could technically call a friend invited them. They had been dancing all night and just when they were about to sit down their song come on. Jake laughs as she looks at him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Uno mas?” He asks with a knowing smile. She nodded and he puts his hands on her hips and they move together. One step forward one step back, hips moving side to side, foreheads pressed together. He holds her close. To him there was no one better, no one who could replace her. He was thankful to come home to her at night and she was loving and sweet, and adored him. He was loved, just as loved as the others. Just as much in love with him as he was with her.

Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be

La vie en rose

Bingo Masterlist

Tag: @moonknight-events

[copingchaos]

This isnt the first post i've made about it but i guess it's still relevant

I just know Steven Grant would judge anyone of us who spends their entire account only focussing on fictional content when in real life children are being murdered in Gaza, in Sudan, in Congo, in Yemen as we speak. If Steven can stand up to hypothetical child murder, why do people in the fandom think it's okay to stay silent on real life child murder on their active platforms here?

I just know Jake Lockley wouldn't even engage with anyone who has such a priviliged and individualistic mindset. Jake Lockley literally is for the people. He'd never condone any active disinvolvement in humanitarian crisis'. So imagine if he saw an active active moon knight fan that was silent about everything that's going on in the world, even though a mere repost costs less than a second,,,do you not think he'd be throwing up in his mouth a little bit at this mindset? People spend hours on making or commenting on fanfics, or memes, or gifs or headcanons but when it comes to a simple share of real life news, it's suddenly too much to do. Or it doesnt fit the vibe of their account.

And Marc Spector 💔 He knows what it's like to lose a sibling. He knows what it's like to be on the wrong side of violence (the receiver and disher). He served, he knows he wronged innocent people. He spent the rest of his live trying to better himself, to make his existence worth something. Do you think he'd be okay with a genocide? Do you think he'd be flattered to see people with accounts who claim to love him, that cant even be bothered to acknowledge what's going on in the real world? Do you not think it would nearly cripple him to find out his existence was used as more of a distraction to disengage from to real life suffering rather than an inspiration to amplify humanitarian effort?

At this point, this is the bare minimum that any of us can do. We can't protest everyday, and boycotting has impact too but the biggest thing we have is our voice. That's why they've murdered over 100 journalists who were reporting on Gaza within 3 months. There is no excuse for me or you to be silent on any active social media platform anymore.

[helpinghanikan]

Moon knight: sleep tight

Moon knight/Steven Grant/Marc Specter x reader (smut)

Sum: When waking up in his alter's bed, with his alter's girl, Marc has to get you back to sleep to make his escape. There is only one way to do that properly...

AN: A quick blurb between reader, Steven Grant and an unknown Marc Specter. Wrote this quickly without really thinking after the second episode. So not edited and not really thought out.

Also, I'm aware Moon Knight isn't the best representation of DID. That being said; I'm writing based on the context of the show.

Your relationship with Steven can best be described as sporadic. Mainly talking through texts, a phone call every now and then. Every blue moon you can arrange a lunch meet up or dinner after work. It took planning and rescheduling to get this date in place.

Around seven you broke new ground by coming to his apartment to meet. Before it’s always been at your place or ‘neutral ground’ of a coffee shop or restaurant.

He opened the door at your first knock. Likely waiting by the door but you’d never call him out on it. Especially when he looks at you like that with a smile that couldn’t typically be found during his day to day. Instead you simply say; “Hi.”

“Hi, uh, come in!” His arm motions towards his apartment in a grand gesture.

There were no hard plans laid out for the night. Steven had made dinner and you brought desert, both of which were finished within the hour. Steven only chewing faster when you made the joke about “the cobblers’ not the only dessert on the menu.”

He still had the wide-eyed look when you came around the table.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, innocently.

“Of course, Love. Of course.” He says and closes the distance to a kiss.

You laugh between the kisses. “Bloody hell,” You say, mocking his accent. Hand sliding down his chest.

Steven stops to look at you. “Actually, since we’re in England, you’re the one with the accent.”

Your hand reaches its destination between his legs. “I’m also the one your cock is gonna be inside of.” You say as if you weren’t the one to start the conversation.

His kisses are more rapid pecks than full on making out. He stands from the table to start moving. Holding your face with both hands, thumbs rubbing over your cheeks. One sliding to the back of your neck as if you may slip away like a dream.

He keeps some kind of hold on you before, during and after sex. Hold your face and breasts at the beginning. When he lays down on the bed he insists on at least one hand intertwining with yours when you ride. Little dents from dull fingers nails can be found on your back when he cums. Holding you so close you may as well be apart of him.

The cuddling only stays that way for a few minutes before he’s up and moving.

You didn’t want to be presumptuous in spending the night, but both of you were thinking it before you even arrived. That you brought a little travel toothbrush meant nothing. What did mean something was how he went about his nightly routine in front of you.

Blue tape on the door, feeding Gus, and walking a circle around the bed with a little pallet of dirt. He looks at you with what can only be called embarrassment. He had told you about his disorder, about his routine, and about everything. But having you be there while all this is being done was a whole other ball game.

You tried to do your own routine while he does his. Brushing your teeth. Taking meds. Putting on your t-shirt and pajama pants. All that before getting back into the bed. Flipping open whatever book was closest in reach. Of course it was something about Egyptology. Not the worst subject but Steven could have told you everything you’d ever want to know about it better than a book could.

“Would you like some water or pop or…?” Steven says, finishing his circle of sand.

“A spot of tea?” You ask, using the mocking accent again.

Steven stops his short walk towards the kitchen. Turning back around towards the bed.

“Well now you’re not getting anything.” He says, the bed dipping as he climbs back in. “Nothing at all.”

Of course you got something later on that night.

Steven sleeps facing you, his arms around your back, holding you firmly. To retaliate your leg was placed firmly on his hip. Come summer, when things heat up in a whole different way, you’ll probably have to find a new to cuddle.

You’re stirred awake in the wee hours of the morning by Steven’s shifting. Softly touching your arms to try and unwrap them from his neck. Out of instinct you pull him closer, getting a groan out of him when he’s pulled tight.

With your leg still around his hip it’s impossible to ignore the erection pressing against your core. It brings your own groan that stops all of Steve’s movements.

“Mmm, mornin’.” You whisper, nuzzling closer.

“Hey…Baby.” He replies.

His voice is laced with sleep but it’s different in another way. Your hands cup his face, rubbing over his cheeks and forcing him to look at you. He’s looking around your face when you kiss him softly.

“You okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He says, moving his leg and a distinct jingle in heard.

He leans up and over to the chain around his ankle. You taking the chance to stretch with all the extra room. Glancing at the clock and finding it to be barely three in the morning.

Sitting up with him you press against his back. A hand on either of his forearms while you kneeled up to kiss his neck. He doesn’t respond to your attention until the chain is completely off. Turning his head towards you and catching your mouth in a kiss.

“Where you going?” You asked.

His hand covers one of yours on his forearm. Thinking for a second before talking.

“Nowhere, Staying right here with you.” He says. Turning around to take you into another, deeper, kiss.

His kisses were harder, like biting onto your lips. It pushed you down until you’re flat on your back. Steven becoming more aggressive as his hands slide up under your shirt. His hands are cold when they each cup and grip your breasts.

Although his grip is hard and your hips are pushing up against him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Gripping his hair and tugging it until he looks up at you.

“You’re American accent is bloody brilliant.” You say, mocking his original accent while doing so.

His eyebrows tilt ever so slightly but quickly return to normal. “Been practicing.” He says, the British accent barely making an appearance.

You laugh again and he kisses again. He so suddenly and with enough force that you moan at the dominance pressing you into the bed. Only lasting long enough for his hand to find the back of your thighs and turning you right over.

It’s been near impossible to find this level of…aggression out of Steven. He’s usually the gentle sort. Who kisses kindly and asks permission to squeeze your ass. Only once had you done it from behind, Steven explaining that he liked seeing your face. When he did take you like this, on all fours and facing away, he stayed pressed to your back. Refusing to get any further away then was needed to penetrate properly.

“Love the excitement but can we-oh.” Your request for more foreplay was interrupted by his tongue.

Spreading your thighs wide Steven delved into your pussy like a starving man. Flat tongue sliding between your lips and to your entrance. Without hesitation he penetrates with tongue and finger, not giving you enough time to think let alone breathe.

All you had time to do was lean forward into the bed. Face down, ass up that you had yet to experience with Steven.

“Steven…” You whispered and he heard. Going faster with his fingers until the room was almost echoing with the wet sound of your pussy getting the appreciation it deserved.

How could the man last this long without air? There was no point in asking, so long as he kept going. Especially when the abuse on your entrance is matched with three fingers sliding slopping circles over your clit.

Attention and spit and movements created cool feelings through your legs and arms. It built behind your pelvis. Growing and growing with your moans and thanks and calling of Steven’s name. It pressed your face into the bedsheets with an open mouth. Gasping out and wanting more but not able to ask the right question.

Instead of asking you used what little willpower you could manage. Supporting your torso with one arm while the other reached back to those dark brown locks. Tangling them in your fingers and pulling.

The fingers inside are gone. They grab the wrist holding his hair and force you to let go.

“Stay down,” He ordered, only continuing when you resume the position.

The pleasure and pressure builds again as his three fingers become two. Sliding through your soaked lips to massage your clit more precisely. His tongue leaving your hole as he kisses one cheek. And then the other. Deciding which side would be better before biting onto the left.

This definitely wasn’t normal Steven behavior, not that you were complaining at the moment. Making a sound that can only be compared to an animal when he bit down.

The orgasm wasn’t an explosion behind your eyes or a fire in your belly. It was a cold celebration that squeezed out into your arms and legs. It rocked with his fingers until you were whining into the bed, reaching back to warn him that you were already spent.

He doesn’t caress your back or ask how you are like before. He retracts from your body. Only his hand on your backside remained. That only doing so to guide you over and onto your side.

“Shit…” you said, as what else was to say?

“Go to sleep,” he said, that one hand staying until you unintentionally obeyed.

You slept for at least three hours. Long enough for Steven to take his place back at your side. Long enough for your pajama pants to become annoying around your ankles. And long enough for Steven to jolt awake. Something he apologizes for every time. This time being no different.

“It’s okay,” You mumbled, pulling him back down to your arms. “Last night is gonna make it okay for a while, babe.”

“I do make a good dinner.” He says, nuzzling into your embrace.

[xmalereader]

Steven Grant X Male Reader || Final ||

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|| Masterlist || ONE || TWO ||

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Authors Note: Here’s the last part! Hope you all enjoyed this little Sugar daddy AU mini series, I’ll be writing more about Steven in the future!

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

Warnings: Sexual tension, sugar daddy au, mentions of Marc, Anubis is a good god, money, romance, pinning, Steven is falling hard, language, angst, fluff, kissing, slight make out, Steven is soft.

Word count: 4.2k

—

—

Their strange relationship continued for two months now. Both Steven and Y/n had grown used to each other presence, Steven used to be nervous around the other man when they first got started on their arrangement. He would keep his distance and just do what he thinks is considered comfortable. Y/n never pushed Steven and respected him, the man was far too perfect. He followed the boundaries they set and would always ask him what he felt comfortable with, he never tried to pressure him.

Steven is grateful by his actions and with the amount of money he is earning he is able to pay off a whole year of rent. He didn’t have to worry about deadlines anymore and having to pay his bills on time. He was finally relaxed and calm, both he and Marc were doing better than ever until Steven started growing feelings.

He told himself to not fall for the man who was spoiling him and call him different pet names that probably meant nothing but, Steven can’t help but fall for him. He’s never spent so much time with someone who would sit back and listen to him ramble about work or about Egypt. Y/n always stared at him with adoration, smiling as he listened to Steven. He could listen to him talk forever and wouldn’t grow tired of it.

Because of Steven's feelings he’s able to talk through it with Marc who teased him but then later reassured him that he is to keep their relationship professional. Reminding Steven that both he and Y/n never promised an outcome of the relationship growing serious and that broke Steven's heart because Marc was right. The two of them could never have something serious, he was weird and scrawny and not many people liked him, so why would Y/n? The man was rich and could have anyone, so he doubts he will ever have a serious chance.

Steven enjoyed his time with Y/n but everyday they were together and having dinner was enough to hurt Steven. He was suffering from this feeling and refused to continue on and so, he has no choice but to talk to Y/n and letting him know that he would like to end things, stop the money making and spoiling. Y/n works for sure understand and move on like nothing happened.

Steven was nothing to Y/n, he wasn’t someone important and if he were to reveal his feelings to Y/n he would have to tell him about Marc and that’s something he can’t do without freaking out the man. Steven stayed up late making calculations with the money he was given, making sure that it was enough to last him for the next few months out, once he knew he had enough he planned to speak with Y/n today after work and letting them know that he’s ending things.

Steven looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting his flannel. “You sure you want to do this?” He hears Marc ask, Steven avoids his gaze in the mirror as he sighed with a nod. “It’s for the best.” He mumbled in return, turning around to grab his things and leaving his flat. He makes sure to lock up before exiting the apartment building.

“You think it is.” Marc continues as Steven walks down the street and to his bus stop. “Steven, you should allow yourself to be with someone who treats you right and respects you—“

“You know I can’t do that.” Steven mumbled, pulling out his phone and putting it near his ear, pretending to be on phone call while speaking with Marc. “I do like him, a lot, but I can’t force it and he’s a popular man with an image. How would everyone react if they found out that he’s dating someone like me? I’m a not important.”

“Hey.” Marc says sternly. “You are important to me Steven, you saved us. Don’t think any less of yourself.” Marc reminds Steven. Without Steven, Marc would’ve been alone during his childhood. Steven to Marc was his protector, because of him he was able to escape his home. As much as Marc hated leaving he had no choice but to get away from everything and start over.

After their situation with Khonshu and becoming Moon Knight they were finally able to enjoy life again after being released. Marc had allowed Steven to front for longer periods before taking his turn but while they met up with Y/n he allowed Steven to interact with the other man for longer periods of time. Marc knew what Steven was feeling towards Y/n.

Steven had never fallen in love before and this was his first time. His first time being happy with someone and he’s gonna push it away. Steven was afraid of rejection and would rather ends things himself before it got worse, before he felt worse.

“I’m sorry.” Steven whispers, apologizing to Marc about his harsh words. “I—I still think it’s best to end things before it’s too late.” He adds before the bus came to a stop near the Museum, he slips his phone back in his pocket and exits the bus. Clutching his bag close and taking in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. He moves his legs and heads up the steps and inside where everyone was getting ready for the day.

“Alright everyone! You know the drill, keep an eye on everyone and make sure nothing gets damaged, try to get people to buy things in the shop as a memory and have fun!” Y/n claps his hands twice, letting everyone know the daily routine. The man spots Steven near the exit, smiling widely as he approached him. “Morning Darling,” He says in a hurry as steven blushed. “Morning.” He responds back.

“I’m gonna be very busy today,” Y/n sighs out, running his fingers through his hair and pushing it back. He’s been stressed all morning and has a lot of things to clear up. He has to go through deliveries and paperwork, his other company in Paris had just called him in about some other issues that he would have to handle when he travels back over. He didn’t have time to deal with anything else, Anubis was nice enough to give him some time off on his tasks. Letting him know that he would be the one to take care of their gatherings.

Anubis is the good of death but he too knew how much stress his avatar was under and didn’t want to pressure the man. “Oh, right.” Steven says with a nervous smile as Y/n eyes him up and down. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing well, I wanted to speak to you but if your busy it can wait.” Steven reassured the man, waving him off and quickly looking away to distract himself from the deep stare the other was giving him. “Steven—“

“I should go get ready for the tours!” Steven cuts in quickly, pacing away quickly and leaving Y/n confused and worried.

“Was that necessary?”

Steven groans. “Hush you.” He mumbled back to mark, putting his things away and fixing his badge on. He makes sure to check himself once again in the mirror, he wants to be presentable for the next few groups to come in for the museum tours. “You have to tell him.”

“And I will.” Steven shakes his head, he can’t postpone his conversation with y/n for another day but, after coming in and seeing the man stressed and upset made him grow anxious. He didn’t know if their conversation could end up wrong, maybe Y/n will get upset and angry with him. Maybe today wasn’t a good day to bring up this conversation and should give it some more time. He couldn’t stand having Y/n angry at him.

“He won’t.”

“Marc, please.” Steven says harshly, shutting Marc up as the room around him goes silent. He lets out a sigh of relief. He really cares for Marc and appreciates him a lot but right now he doesn’t need him constantly bickering in the back of his head about Y/n and the conversation. Not right now, maybe later. Today he just wants to finish up work and make sure that he gets done quickly.

—

The museum is crowded and full; family’s, couples, children, siblings, anyone technically was visiting the place. Steven had to deal with the tours quickly in order to stay in schedule, he was too busy spreading information and history on the artifacts that he forgets about the conversation he is to have with Y/n. Until he sees him walking around the place, greeting those who came inside and talking to different important people that would come by.

Steven had counted a total of six people who wore their fancy suits paying y/n a visit during the Museum's busy hours. Every time Steven waited for the new group near the entrance he would watch Y/n walk around, his head held up high. He was wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands in his pockets and tie loosened as he spoke to the man in front of him.

Y/n didn’t need to look professional in order to get deals or to gain partnerships, the man was persuasive with his words and not his looks—rather his looks were a bonus to Steven. He caught himself staring at the other far too many times and tried to keep himself concentrated for the next tour. The rest of the day is spent that way until the last hour hits and the announcements are going off, letting everyone know that the museum is to close in less than twenty minutes.

Usually Steven only stays for a short period of time but due to the day being busy his schedule became booked for the day. He didn’t mind staying late, he enjoyed his job and loved sharing the history of Egypt. He wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

“Heading out, Stevie?” Donna teased out, clicking her tongue as Steven rolls his eyes at her. The women still irritated him, no matter how many times he corrects her about his name she still refuses to listen. Steven has grown to ignore her as he hums in response, collecting his things and avoiding her glare.

He heads towards the exit until he sees Marc in his reflection in one of the closed off cases.

“Steven. The conversation.”

Steven groans, dropping his head. He didn’t want to talk anymore he was tired and just wanted to head home. Knowing Marc he will annoy him until he goes through with his plan. “Fine.” He whispers, turning around and heading down the halls, nearing the office as he stands outside, clutching his book bag close to his chest as he rasped his knuckles against the door, knocking twice as he steps back and waits.

He hears a muffled, ‘come in’, causing him to freeze up until Marc nudges him forward, pushing the door handle down and stepping inside. “Hello.” Steven says in a soft voice.

Y/n looks up from his desk. “Oh, steven—hope your day wasn’t too busy.” He chuckled, glancing back down on the documents in front of him and getting things signed off. “No, it was alright, bit hectic but—normal.” Steven shrugs, moving around the room and sitting in the nearest chair. “Are you available to talk?” He finally asks.

Y/n looks up from his work, raising a brow in questioning. “Of course.” He sets his work down and pushed aside. He always had time for Steven. “What do you need.” He placed his head in his hand, a smile on his lips.

Stevens face heats up, licking his lips as he pushes himself to speak. “Our arrangement, I want to end it.” He avoids Y/n stare. The room is silent, the only thing being heard is the sound of the clock ticking that hands from the wall.

“I’m sorry—what?” Y/n chuckles out, not believing what he heard.

“Our arrangement, I wish to end things. Make sure everything goes back to normal.”

Y/n shakes his head. “Why? Did I cross a boundary? Did I do something to make you feel uncomfortable?” His tone is filled with worry, mind racing as he thinks back to everything they’ve done, wondering if he did something wrong.

“No, you didn’t cross any boundary—I just think we should stop and pretend this never happened.”

“Never happened? Steven—fuck.” He hears him stand from his seat, chair pushed back as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Dammit.” He hissed out to himself, glancing over at Steven who kept his head low, not looking at him.

Y/n doesn’t like the expression he’s making, it makes him think that he did something wrong to upset Steven. But, this was their arrangement, they weren’t anything serious and he promised Steven that he would only take care of him and his needs. He lets out a deep sigh and nods. “I understand.” He says.

“Starting tomorrow we will no longer meet up, you’ll go back to being my employee and I your boss.” Y/n rounds the table, standing near Steven, he wants to reach out and pull him close. He wishes to run his fingers through his curly hair, to hug him, to kiss him, to make him his. Instead he holds back. “You can go, goodnight Steven.”

Steven nodded, standing from his seat and rushing out of the room, leaving y/n behind in his office to dread the loneliness while the Brit rushed home.

“Fucking hate this.” Y/n whispers to himself, leaning back in his desk as he hears Anubis walk around the office, staff in hand as he tilts his head, ears twitching. “You are in pain.”

“No I’m not.” Y/n bites back.

“Hathor knew much more about this feeling I can smell on you.” Anubis says. “She called it love.”

“I’m not in love.”

“Yet, you continue to lie to yourself.”

Y/n shakes his head, he can’t be in love. No, he wasn’t capable of love. He’s been in many relationships and they all ended badly, he was always told that he was a cruel man who never had time for them or that he was too greedy which wasn’t true. He was too busy trying to find ways in getting rid of his money that all he can think about are charities or starting partnerships with small companies who deserved to grow and had potential. Yet, somehow, he was able to find the time for Steven.

The man was like a moth to a flame, Steven was a shy man who closed himself off from others. His innocence is what caught his attention, he wanted to protect the man, he wanted to spoil Steven. He wanted to see that bright smile everyday and to hear him ramble on about Egypt and about the smallest things ever and could spend hours listening to him.

“Anpu, I think your right.” He finally says, confessing as he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he hears the god of death huff out a proud chuckle, knowing that he’s won.

“Well, what will you do?” Anubis asks, leaning down to him as he waits for a response, the smaller man glaring up at him before answering. “I suppose I should go and talk to him.”

“Then you should go and speak to him.” Anubis announces as Y/n walks around his office, cleaning his mess and fixing himself up while the god watched him. “We should one day, visit Hathor. Her and her Avatar would like to meet you. You’re full of love and compassion along with guidance and determination—this is why I chose you as my avatar.” Anubis praised.

Y/n blushed as he fixed his hair in the mirror, “who knew that the god of death could speak so highly of others.” He turns around to face the god, giving him a smile. “I’ll make up tonight for the lack of work.”

“Don’t worry, we will continue our gatherings another day. Right now, go and retrieve your love.”

With that, Y/n runs out of the office, running down the halls and outside where he finds his car. He remembers visiting Stevens flat once, Steven was a bit insurance about the mess and the way he loved but y/n didn’t mind, his place felt like home. He remembers the way their and drives down the dark empty roads, reaching Stevens apartment building and parks near it. He is quick to get out and run towards the doors.

He’s lucky to have a young lady let him in once he tells her that he’s visiting a friend, thanking her and taking the elevator up the fifth floor. He’s tapping his foot anxiously, checking to see which floor he’s on and checking himself again on his phone, wanting to look presentable. Once the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, he steps into the empty hallway, checking every door number as he whispers the numbers to himself until he reaches the one Steven is living in.

He stands in front of the door. He doesn’t know if the man is awake or if he went to bed after leaving. He was hesitant, what if steven rejected his feelings and didn’t want him around or didn’t want to see him again?

“Knock or I’ll do it for you.” Y/n is startled by Anubis’ voice over his shoulder. “You scared the hell out of me.” He whispers, glaring at the god who glared back at him. “Knock or I knock.” He warns him again, hitting the end of his staff on the floor. “Okay, calm down!” Y/n is quick to say as he knocks.

“There, happy?” He tells the god who huffs a nod until the sound of a chain and lock being unlocked is heard. He froze in place, turning to face the door as it’s pulled open to reveal Steven wearing sweats, a confused look on his face. “Y/n, what are you doing here?”

Y/n swallows and steps forward. “It’s my turn to talk.” Steven opens and closes his mouth, confused and shocked. “Of—of course.” Steven doesn’t know what else to say and allows Y/n inside his flat.

Y/n looks around the room, the flat is still the same. Nothing looks moved and his desk is stacked with books along with notebooks and other strange writings. “Why are you here, again?” Steven asks, wanting to get this done quickly.

“I wanted to talk about today. About what you told me.” Y/n steps forward, standing near Steven. “I know you want to end our arrangement and I’ll accept it but listen to what I have to say first, you don’t have to say anything back if you don’t want too but listen.” His voice is firm, he wants Steven to look at him and want to know how he feels. Either he gets rejected or not he wants to hear it.

“I don’t want things to end.”

“What—?” Y/n holds his hand up, Silencing Steven.

“The reason why I don’t want things to end is because—because I’ve taken notice of the way you are. The things you do and say make me feel something for you. Not the feeling of the arrangement we had—but the way you make me feel like I want to be near you all the time. I want to see you smile and laugh at the stupid things I say or when you ramble about Egypt and how passionate you can be. I want to see that side of you everyday, not as someone who spoils you and takes care of you, but as someone you can talk to whenever and not be ashamed to be around with in public.” He explains, stepping forward and reaching out to place his index finger underneath his chin and tilting his head back.

“I want to love and cherish you.” He whispers. Steven shakes his head. “You can’t, I’m strange and weird.” Y/n eyes darken, using his free hand to place against Stevens hip. “Not to me you aren’t, your worth more to me. Hell, if I had to choose between buying an artifact from Egypt or you, I’d spend every penny In order to have you.” He pushes Steven back against the door, caging him in as the either gasps in surprise.

“R—really?” Steven asks, surprised and speechless. Y/n slowly smiles. “Really.” He whispers again, looking into his warm brown eyes. His hand pressed against his neck as his thumb stroked his cheek. He was so close. He had to have been aware of just how little space there was between the two of them. A breath. Not even.

“Y/n.” Steven whined as his lips brushed his once more.

“If you keep saying my name like that, you are going to drive me absolutely insane.” Y/n pressed his forehead to Stevens, noses brushing, thumb swiping across his bottom lip. He feels him shudder as his thigh flexed between his legs. “Can I kiss you?” Y/n whispers to Steven.

Steven breaths out nervously. “Yes.”

His mouth was on Stevens before he could even finish his breath. His hand traveled down his throat, settling around it with a loose grip. He gasped, and Y/n took total control of the kiss, his hand tightening just enough to give a tease. Like a taste of a punishment he wasn’t supposed to know he wanted to give him. Steven didn’t know where to put his hands, he didn’t know if he should place them on his shoulders or to keep them in place as the kiss grew intense.

Steven breaks away, their breaths hot against each others skin as he pants softly, licking his lips and grinning down at Steven. Leaning close as he nosed Stevens neck, his lips grazing against the soft skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” Y/n breaths out, apologizing for overstepping.

“It’s alright,” Steven leans his forehead on his shoulder, nuzzling his face into it. “I liked it.” It was actually his first time kissing a man and he is happy to know that y/n is his first and wouldn’t trade that first kiss with anyone else. Y/n chuckles against him. “I’m glad you did, if you ever want another feel free to do so.” He flirts out, making Steven laugh as the two pulled away.

Y/n sighs. “We can take it slow, give yourself some time to adjust.” He reassured Steven. He didn’t want the man to feel pressured or frightened if he felt things going too fast. Steven appreciates it, smiling softly in return. “I would like to take our time, getting used to this and perhaps in the future we can do—“ his face grows red, embarrassed to say anything else.

“Will take our time.” Y/n smirks, pulling away from Steven as he walks towards the coach, removing his coat and tossing it to the side. He began to loosen his tie which causes Steven to grows flustered. “What are you doing?”

“What? It’s late out and I’m to tired to drive back home. So, why don’t we sleep together?” Steven didn’t know what to say about that. Y/n wanted to sleep in his bed, he wanted to be next to him. Steven has never shared his bed with anyone else, he used to struggle with sleeping but after resolving the issue and figuring out about Marc. His sleeping schedule was able to change and he improved. He no longer had to keep himself chained up or had to add sand into the ring. No, he was fine.

“Hope you don’t mind me moving.” Steven said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he approached his bed, pushing the covers back. He watched Y/n approach the bed as well and sit on the other side of the bed. Steven is used to sleeping in the middle but he can try to sleep in one side tonight.

“I usually sleep in the middle but I can take the left side tonight.” Steven blurts out as he gets in bed.

Y/n follows in after him. He gets under the covers and smiles, reaching out to wrap an arm around Stevens waist and pulling him towards the middle of the bed where he keeps his arm over his abdomen, nuzzling his face into Stevens neck and placing a soft kiss upon it. “We can always share.” He says against his ear, breath hot. Steven tries to keep himself relaxed as he shifts in place, adjusting to their position and getting comfortable. Once he’s comfortable he finally relaxes and hums to himself in realization, finding out that he really liked having someone close and cuddling him.

Steven is able to fall sleep in less than few minutes, not having to struggle with sleeping again.

[brockify]

heaven’s cloud— steven grant

steven grant x barista!gn reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: the tiniest bit of angst, sleepy steven, fluff, steven w/ sweater paws BEWARE

note: this takes place at the beginning of ep 1 so no mentions of mk shenanigans or marc but hints at it!

“london fog with extra vanilla!”

hearing the order that steven knew by heart, he wiped the sleep from his eyes with his sweater sleeve.

truth be told, steven liked tea, but it wasn’t what truly woke him up. if he had it his way, he’d drink the strongest mocha he could ever have made but he had a special reason for always getting the same drink.

that reason was you. watching you make his drink every morning made his days slightly better. some days you’d look a little disheveled after pulling an all-nighter from watching your new favorite actor’s movies, and others with you being energetic after having slept more than a few hours.

today you seemed more tired than normal, (perhaps you had slept late again? he knew you were currently on a tv show binge) or perhaps you had just woken up earlier than usual. walking over to the counter, steven grabbed his cup before giving you a small smile while you made one of the long line of drinks waiting for you.

“cheers.”

you watched steven leave the store, humming a tune that you couldn’t quite place where you had heard it before. steven was one of your favorite customers who came in everyday. most mornings it wasn’t too busy, and you were able to chat with him about everything and anything. your current topic of discussions in the morning were about best book adaptations into film. depending on the day, he’d stand there next to the pickup counter while you worked and made the orders, and others you would chat while ringing his order up.

you weren’t sure why steven always picked the same drink everyday, but it did make it easier for you to predict and ring up.

today was unusual though, as it had been the first time you had seen him in over a week. the dark circles under his eyes became more prominent, seemingly protruding outwards in some angles. He also barely conversed with you, and started to fall asleep on the pick up counter.

you were worried, hoping that nothing was going on that was stressing him out. it was known to your coworkers and every other usual who came around that you and steven had a very… interesting relationship. Everyone assumed you two were together, both of you ignoring the other’s flushed faces and reddened ears when stating you were just friends. you had hoped that he would come back soon, and look a little more like his normal self to ease your nerves a little.

3 weeks had gone by since the last steven sighting and you were concerned. you woke up extra early today, wrapping a present that you had bought him. it was simple, but you had hoped it would lift his spirits a little. in the box, you had folded the new slate cardigan you had bought him, with little clouds embroidered on it. you had also put a card in, a little anxious about the card and its contents, but pushing through nevertheless. you noticed that he typically cycled through the same 4 shirts and wanted to give him something that you thought fit his vibe.

you were thankful that you had the day off of work, and also grateful that you had your own little coffee station in your apartment, albeit less expensive and complicated than the one at your job. quickly whipping up a coffee for yourself, you drank the steaming mug while getting ready to go visit the gallery. your conversations with steven had ventured into talk about work before, which is why you knew where he worked and what department.

checking the time, you quickly ran out of the house to catch the bus, not wanting to miss it. you were able to snag a seat, happy not to have to stand the entire ride smushed against another stranger. you weren’t sure how it happened, but you found yourself dozing off, only to hear the automated voice state that the next stop was for the gallery. you quickly gathered your stuff together, and pulled on the signal cord as fast as you could. The bus came to a halt, swaying everyone forward with the force of the brakes. getting up from the seat, you made your way to the doors with a series of “excuse me” and “my apologies”.

stepping off the bus you stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the entrance. hanging from the top of the building you could see banners posted for the new ennead exhibit they were hosting. tightening your grip on the box ever so slightly, you took a deep breath before walking up the stairs. at the entrance you stood there, not sure if you should ask for directions but figured you’d walk around until you found him. that is if you found him.

you ended up walking around the entire gallery, enamored by the exhibits and all of the little plaques explaining each item in detail. you finally made it to the gift shop area, where you saw a tuft of hair that was eerily familiar. steven was sitting in a chair that he had found behind his counter, arms covering his face. his woven beige sleeves seemed to act as a pillow for his face, and you could hear the soft snores emitted from him.

letting out a soft giggle, you looked around the gift shop before grabbing the taweret plush and walking over to the counter. placing the neatly wrapped box, you tapped ever so slightly on steven’s head. he jolted awake, nearly jumping out of his own skin.

“oh my days, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

he wiped the sleepiness out of his eyes, and his breath hitched slightly when he saw you standing in front of him holding the plush. he knew you were aware of where he worked, but he had never thought that you might show up one day.

“oh, hullo.”

you raised an eyebrow at him which in turn made him let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck out of habit.”

“steven, i’m so glad you’re alright. you had me worried sick! i haven’t seen you in weeks!”

he grimaced slightly knowing that he didn’t know how to explain his sudden absences. he seemed to sleep for days, and had to double check his ankle restraints. recently things had gotten…weirder in his life, strange occurrences happening that even he wasn’t sure truly happened. his gaze landed on you gently, trying to gauge your emotions through your eyes.

“I'm truly sorry I worried you love, it’s just been busy.”

letting out a particularly loud exhale you shook your head and gave him a small smile.

“it’s alright, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

steven kept his gaze on your eyes only to find understanding and a warmth that brought him comfort.

he nodded, and snapped out of his daze before realizing you were holding the plush and had a neatly wrapped box on the counter. pinching the taweret plush from your hands he quickly scanned it before pointing to the box.

“What's the box for?”

you had forgotten all about the box and the present you had gotten him inside.

“oh! it’s uhm for you.”

you slid the box towards him, not making any eye contact and opting instead to look around the shop once more, ignoring the tips of your ears burning.

steven placed the plush on the counter and picked up the box. he admired the wrapping, a light blue wrapping paper that was admittedly very simple but made his heart flutter, seeing the scribble of his name written at the top.

he smiled his big smile that he always made when he was content or excited (something you loved to see) and placed the box next to his bag.

“thank you. i’m sure it’s very lovely. you didn’t have to get me anything though. your banter and wit are more than enough for me.”

shuffling through your wallet, you picked your card out handing it to him.

“It's no problem really, I just thought you might enjoy a pick me up!”

he swiped your card and printed the receipt before asking for your signature.

“I promise I'll open it the moment I get home and I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

hearing him say he was going to see you tomorrow made you nod and hide your smile, feeling a little silly for acting like a child with their first crush.

“sounds good. I have a few errands to run but i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

he nodded and waved you off, watching you exit the gallery with the taweret plush in hand.

he would never admit it, but steven rushed home for the first time in a long while. he was staring at the gift all day, trying not to open it then and there at work. even donna had noticed that he was in a more cheerful mood, making a comment about how he was finally doing his job right. finally getting into his apartment, he threw his shoes off and tossed his bag to the side.

taking the gift to his dining table, he set it down before looking for a pair of scissors. after a few minutes of rummaging through drawers he finally found a pair and made his way back. steven tried his hardest not to rip the wrapping paper, but to be fair it was just so quick to rip so it hadn’t been his fault when he tore it to shreds.

the box was an ordinary box, taped on the top just to have it not open. cutting the tape, he opened the flaps to reveal the cardigan you had bought him, folded neatly with a card atop it.

pulling out both the card and cardigan he placed then on the table before opening the card. inside the card you had written him a note, and made him smile.

the note read: “hope these keep you soft n warm, steven <3 let me know how it fits?”

at the bottom of the card he noted a phone number with a small heart next to it. he let out a small laugh, the beating of his heart loud enough in his ears that he could hear it. he was never aware that you shared the same feelings as him, but he was ecstatic.

he was looking forward to seeing you tomorrow for his tea in his new cardigan.

[vi-sinner]

Crush | Steven Grant x GN!Reader

Steven works up his courage to ask you, one of the museums tour guides and his crush, out on a date. Even if it’s so hard to get the words out 

Warnings| Nothing but fluffy fluff with our favorite gift shop worker :} 

Main Masterlist   Moon Knight Masterlist   AO3

Word Count| 1.1k

A/N| Wanted to write something sweet for steven, no marc in this to mess with this poor boys head. plz excuse the basic title I for the life of me couldn’t think of one. Any feedback, Likes, or reblogs are much appreciated!

It was an everyday occurrence for Mr. Steven Grant to be late, much to Donna's displeasure. But recently the gift shop worker has seemed to be right on time- or at least less than an hour late

He didn't suddenly get more disciplined in his routine- No, it was a certain someone that motivated him to want to be at that museum as early as possible 

And that someone was you

To say Steven had a crush on you would be an understatement, he would watch-totally not in a creepy way- but he would watch, almost admiring your beauty. The way you walked, talked, and even smiled would brighten his day. 

The only problem was Steven had a hard time expressing what he wanted- let alone felt. Stumbling on his words no matter who he would be talking to. At the rare times he would get to conversate with you it would feel ten times worse. But you never embarrassed him, or showed the signs you were bored of his presence. Instead, you would adorn that radiate smile and patiently wait for him to get through his words 

Steven really liked that about you, one of the museum's tour guides. Your patience, and it wasn't just towards him but everybody. You took your time with the people in your tour group, answering questions and sometimes going a little off script just to let them get that full experience 

So, there was nothing more that Steven wanted than to ask you out. He truly wanted to get to know you better and have the time to do so- not just 10 minutes in between your tours.  He constantly thinks about the perfect date. Whether you preferred a fancy restaurant or something simple, did you have any allergies? Were you a vegan? While those factors would help, what he really needed the confidence to actually go forth and ask you 

He can't even remember the number of times he would hype himself up in the bathroom to actually do it, so many times where you were standing there, and begging himself inside his head to just throw the question out there. But then, the words would get stuck in his throat and work would drag you away and he would be left planning it all over again 

Of course, you were no fool, you've had enough experience to know if someone had taken an interest in you. It wasn’t arrogance, you were just observant- it was helpful in the cases you received unwanted advances

But with Steven he never did make any advances- or at least any real ones. You always made sure to stop by the gift shop when you could and engage in small talk- even if it sometimes it felt a little one-sided. You found his timid behavior endearing; it was a break from all the other men that would be over confident in themselves 

As much as you wanted him to feel comfortable with making the first move, you knew it wasn't going to happen. You dropped hints left and right. Your favorite foods, allergies, and even talking about some of your more awkward and unbearable dates. Trying to do everything to give him that push

There was so many times where you thought he would, but something would hold him back or someone would call you away 

Having just finished doing your 2nd tour of the day. You make your way to the gift shop, where as usual, you spend those breaks in between tours there. To no surprise, there stands Steven behind the counter, taking inventory of the various overpriced novelty items sold there. 

With your ever glowing smile you make your way to him. He jumps a little when you suddenly appear in his sights, and he says your name with an awkward wave “What brings you here?” He asks, dropping his work immediately- even if Donna pesters him later on about it 

“Got to pass the time somehow, probably got a couple more tours and such” He nods but doesn't give a reply, god you really have to push him don't you? “Is that a new sweater? It looks good on you” 

“Oh this old thing? It's nothing really-got it at a thrift shop” His red face took a look to inspect his attire, he really did just pick the thing up and bought it- it looked comfortable enough. You would have just complimented his overall appearance, but the poor man's head might have exploded. “I've actually been meaning to talk to you...If you have the time” 

Your ears perk up at this, just maybe he will finally ask the words you've been craving to hear “Of course I have the time, wouldn't be here if I didn't now, would I?” You stand up straighter to nudge his arm

“Ha, right…right..” Your touch distracts him, but he really wants to get this out- even if doubts and fear plague his mind. But like he told his reflection in the bathroom mirror today- You just a person…a very, very pretty person. His head shakes when he realizes he was staring at you “Um so it's nice weather out today.” 

‘Great start Steven’ He scolded himself 

“It is, have any plans?” 

 Taking a sharp inhale, he begins “Well no, but that's..um… what I  wanted to talk to you about” He sees your smile and he wishes you would stop that, not that he hates it- no it's quite the opposite. He feels he just can't function when you give him that look. “Do you wanna..like I mean-If you're not busy that is..but if you are it's totally fine- we could get lunch? Or if you don't like that! we could go for some tea- really whatever you want…or we don't have to get anything at all! If you don't want..so yeah” 

You beam at his invitation. You were aware of his hands, which he was fiddling with, and his eyes that never lined up with yours. But you couldn't care because you were simply happy…even if he couldn't ask you straight. “Steven” You start- his shoulders sink, thinking that you're going to reject him, that all you wanted to do was remain friends and he stepped too far “Are you asking me out on a date?” With hopeful eyes he could only manage a nod, “Then of course, I would love too.”

His brain stopped functioning for a good second, processing that this wasn't a dream. “You would?” he manages to ask 

“I would love to.” Now he is the one smiling, pearly whites all out. “How about something simple? There's a new bakery down a couple blocks I've been wanting to try, does that sound good?”

“That sounds wonderful” 

But really going anywhere would be prefect, as long as you would be there right next to him

[peachsteven]

Official Meeting

Pairing: Steven Grant X Reader; Marc Spector X Reader

Warning(s): Gus's death (but do point out if there are any more)

Summary: The first official meeting with Marc finally took place.

Word Count: 1452

A/N: I really hope y'all like this one. It is a continuation of this fic, but it's not a mandatory read so it's up to you whether you want to read it or not. Request is still open y'all and I'm working on the one in my inbox. Also reblogs, replies, likes, criticisms are very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy!!!

Masterlist

––––––

The clanking of keys against the bowl filled the empty flat as I entered it. The sky was dark outside, books clattered all around the room and the shelves, and Steven was not home.

It had been more than a week since I last heard from him and I had gotten worried. Hence, the emergency keys were used for me to check on his flat, in case anything had happened.

I had come to the museum to check on him and his boss, Donna, had told me that he hadn't been in for days. That had been the final push for me to use the emergency keys to his place.

The silence in the room was deafening. There was only the sound of bubbling from the aquarium and the traffic outside, but none was from Steven. The room had been dark, only the moonlight shining through the window and the light from the aquarium illuminating the otherwise blackout room. Which was when I noticed something.

Oh no.

Gus was not swimming. He was floating. The one finned- wait, two finned fish?

The two finned fish had been Steven's company for as long as I've known him, and now he's dead. That meant Steven hadn't been home for more than days.

The sound of keys jingling and the turn of a doorknob took me out of my train of thoughts. It must be him.

Immediately, I stood up, clammy hands fixing my coat and hair, afraid that I didn't look presentable enough for him.

Then, the door opened and there he was in, all his glory, Steven Grant.

I could feel my heart rushing, and my hands getting clammier as he turned to shut the door, not yet noticing my presence. When he did though, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, as if he had just done something he shouldn't have done but did anyway.

He looked as if he wanted to say something but took it back, maybe trying to formulate what to say. I stared at him, waiting for an explanation which hadn't come so I broke the silence.

"Are you alright?"

He looked surprised by the question, as if he was expecting me to reprimand him for whatever he had done. Rubbing his hand on his pants, he opened his mouth but closed it again, opened, sighed, then closed again. After a few seconds of silence, finally he spoke, "you– you're not mad at me?"

I tilted my head, confused on why would I be mad at him when I had been anxious, waiting for his call, text, perhaps e-mail. Anything!

Shifting my gaze from the top of his head to the bottom of his shoes slowly, I drank the sight of him, after not seeing him for so long I just needed the reassurance that he's here. That he's okay, but then I noticed bruises and faint marks on his hand that he immediately tried to hide behind his back as soon as he noticed where my eyes were.

"Steven…" I paused, thinking of what exactly to ask him. Had he been away this whole time? What sort of trouble could he be getting into that would cause such bruises?

"I'm fine, don't worry," he voiced his thoughts before I could do mine. Steven looked conflicted, avoiding eye contact, playing with the buttons on his pants, and if you looked close enough, you could see sweat perspiring on his forehead. As if he was hiding something.

It was then silent until Steven walked closer and suggested for us to sit down. That it would be better for him to explain everything, but I refused.

"Explain what, Steven? You were gone for– I'm not even sure how long! I called and texted you everyday, no answer, knocked on your door for days, again, no answer, checked the museum, you weren't there, and I'm sorry but I used the emergency keys you gave me because I thought that you maybe," playing with the sleeves of my shirt, I took a deep breath, "I don't know, died because you slipped in the shower?" Making my way towards the window, I looked at his apologetic face and leaned against the sill. Nope, not this time. "I was worried, Steven."

He stood up too and made his way towards me. Taking my hand in his, he kissed it several times before finally looking up at me, "I know I should've called but the situation didn't really allow me to do so. I swear I can explain everything if you promise to listen to me until I'm finished, then you can ask me anything."

I stared at him and nodded, agreeing to listen to whatever explanation he had and led us to sit on the edge of his bed.

He started by telling me of Marc, him, and DID. Marc was a mercenary and an avatar for the Egyptian God of the moon, Khonshu. He told me that he had been gone because he, Marc, Khonshu, and Layla (Marc's ex wife) were trying to stop this man named Harrow from judging the souls of the people who had yet done evil. They were, thankfully successful and had just arrived from Cairo after a long trip.

I stared at him, mouth agape, unsure what to believe. Steven wouldn't lie. That I knew from the past year I've known him, but this is a bit too absurd to believe. I've heard cases of DID before but never met anyone with it so that part of course I believe, but the Egyptian moon God?

Breaking out of my trance, I noticed Steven was talking to the mirror, saying some stuff about an official meeting. I didn't get the chance to listen in more because Steven had already noticed my gaze upon him.

He was about to say something, but I blurted the thought that was running through my head before he could. Something that was such a random thought but my wild imagination couldn't help but to think, "were you talking to Marc?"

"Uh, yeah– and he said that he thinks now's the best time for you to meet him," he paused. "Are you ready? Because, it's okay if you're not. We can do it for another time."

Meeting Marc? The host of the body and the one who created Steven in order to cope with the abuse of his mother? I didn't even know if he would like me or not and I was afraid that he wouldn't. Steven was someone I know and love but Marc was practically a stranger. Of course, he is. I've never met him before.

"Oh uh, okay." I straighten my posture, trying to find any flaw that was on me, removing or fixing it because first impression is everything, right? "I'm ready."

Steven took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened it again. It was then I noticed the shift in the way he carried himself. How he sat a bit more upright and the eyes. There was just a change in it that I couldn't quite describe but the difference is so noticeable once you know who you're facing.

"Marc…"

"Yeah," he paused, scratching his head. "I honestly don't know what to say because Steven already did all the talking."

"Um… nice to meet you?" I extended my arm toward him, expecting him to take it, but he didn't. Instead, he shifted closer to where I was. Too close. He looked into my eyes as if he was gazing deep into my soul. This felt intimate and oddly familiar.

Then, it clicked.

"It wasn't Steven practicing an American accent all those times, wasn't it?" He nodded and smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Now I was conflicted. What did this mean to mine and Steven's relationship? I couldn't leave Steven. Never. But I didn't know Marc that well either

"So, what now?" I asked. "What about my– sorry, our relationship?"

He looked toward the mirror, perhaps listening to what Steven was saying. He nodded and turned his head to look back at me. Taking my hand in his, he started, "maybe, that is if you want," his thumb rubbed my palm. "Maybe, we can take things slow. Get to know each other, then you can make your decision."

Looking into his eyes, I note the softness in them and how genuine they are. Although they're different from Steven's, they were comforting.

"Is this– I mean, is Steven okay with this?"

"Yeah, he's the one who actually suggested it."

I looked at him again and then at the mirror. Steven's there but I just can't see him, I think. Only Marc could. Contemplating my answer for some long seconds, I came to a decision.

"Okay."

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Not Like This Pt. 2

Jake Lockley X Reader Slight Marc Spector X Reader, Steven Grant X Reader Except she needed him more than anything right now, and he was refusing to come back out, to talk to her like an adult. a/n:this is a part two to this fic right here! thank you to everyone who gave feedback! it is much appreciated and I hope you like part two as much as i liked writing it! if you're interested in a part three let me know! Italics are Steven Bold is Marc also huge shoutout to @gaylemonshark, @mentalfictionleftmyassbehind, and @itstartswithhelloo for helping me not only start writing, but finish this fic part 1 part 3

Jake was still in shock, even nearly two and a half months later, her belly sticking out farther almost everyday as she grew their child in her body. The doctor's visits weren’t exactly easy, either Marc or Steven fronting before Jake could get any say. This wasn’t even their kid, why were they so worried about what was going on? Y/N assured him almost daily that things were fine, and the doctor said the baby was growing at a healthy rate.

It still didn’t settle his nerves, though he’d never admit it to her, let alone let her know he’d sometimes let Steven front when his emotions ran too hot. It was easier to lie than tell anyone the truth.

Jake was terrified he’d be a bad father, that he’d let Y/N down and end up leaving when she needed him the most. So he’d revert back into his mind, letting the other two front while he caught his bearings. There were times he’d be gone for days at a time, refusing to speak to anyone. Y/N knew Jake needed the space, that he was just as nervous as she was about becoming a parent. 

Except she needed him more than anything right now, and he was refusing to come back out, to talk to her like an adult.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do all of that darling, I’ll get to it in a minute,” Steven was helping put the crib together. Claiming that he was the better of the trio to ask for anything handy.

Y/N of course didn’t believe him for a second, raising a brow before handing him a screwdriver and plopping down on the couch. Marc had brought up the option of moving in together, claiming they would need a better space to raise a baby in, rather than Steven’s small apartment. She jumped at the chance, ready to be closer to Jake, and the two other altars she’d met not so long ago.

“The baby keeps moving, I can feel it,” She smiled softly, resting a hand on the lower part of her belly, frowning at the small stretch marks that covered the skin.

All three men adored her belly, no matter how she looked with, or without a shirt to cover the bump. It was simply another part of her to love, which they showed nothing but adoration for everyday they could.

“That’s probably cause they hear you talkin’, know it’s their mom,” Steven never shied away from talking about the baby, not the way both Marc and Jake did.

“I think it’s because they can hear you, little baby hears four different voices and keeps trying to figure out whose who,” Y/N giggled, rubbing her hands all over the bump, feeling the light flutter as the baby moved around.

“That could be true, lord knows you are always asking me to read to ‘em, begging me practically,” Steven let out a small cheer as he screwed together the base of the crib to the legs.

The nursery was slowly coming together, the walls already painted with a mural that represented everyone. Jake was the one who’d insisted on it, claiming it was more so for the baby than him. Y/N just patted his cheek and moved on, not wanting to cause a fuss over something Jake seemed truly happy about.

“Darling?” Steven looked almost nervous, hands gripping the crib tighter as he glanced over at Y/N.

She raised a brow at him, waiting for him to ask whatever question seemed to suddenly be burning through him.

“Jake’s going to be fronting tonight, Khonshu has a job and he needs him for it. He’s asking for you not to worry, and that he’ll be back before you know it,” There it was, something she’d been waiting to hear for the last few weeks.

“That’s fine, Steven, I’ll make sure to lock the door when he leaves tonight,” It was a ritual they’d had before she’d met the other two.

Whenever he left her home she was to immediately lock the door, no matter how badly she wanted Jake to come back home, she had to lock the doors and go back to sleep. It’d saved her life a few times, Jake catching some of Harrow’s disciples before they could sneak into the apartment building.

It was starting to bother her though, the way Jake was talking through either Steven, or Marc instead of speaking directly to her. Had she done something wrong? Had Jake finally realized he wasn’t ready to be a parent and was finding his excuse to leave?

“Hey, Steven?” Y/N took a slow breath, gaining the courage to ask the question that had been burning through her mind.

Steven looked over at her, eyes wide and curious as if he was waiting to hear something besides what Y/N had in mind.

“If you could, could you find out if Jake’s planning to leave? That way I know I have to take care of this baby on my own? I mean, it’s not like he’s being very subtle right now,” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Steven’s face screwed up into an expression she couldn’t quite decipher before his eyes rolled back, mouth pulling down into a tight line.

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m going to leave when things get tough between us?” Jake scoffed, grabbing his coat from the rack that lined the wall beside the front door.

“You haven’t spoken to me in weeks! What else am I supposed to think when the man I love is suddenly ignoring me?” Tears were building up in her eyes, falling down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Jake wanted to ignore her, to prove to her that things were perfectly fine. Why was she worrying so much about what he did? This wasn’t something new for them, Jake had a job to do, and god dammit he wasn’t about to let anything ruin this for him.

“Answer me!” She stared at him, waiting with baited breath.

“You’re being dramatic, lock the door when I leave,” Jake didn’t spare a glance behind him before storming out, the door slamming behind him harshly.

Y/N angrily stomped over to the door, locking both the deadbolt, and the door lock before going back to the couch. Her emotions were running wild, how could Jake be so selfish and then have the nerve to claim she was being dramatic? It was a valid reason to be upset, so why the hell was Jake being such an idiot?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jake had been walking around for nearly two hours, the sun slowly creeping over the horizon as he stopped to take in a deep breath. The job Khonshu had sent him on was easy, much easier than he’d been expecting considering his line of work. So when it came time to head back to the apartment, he refused, digging his heels in and walking around the quiet streets instead.

Seriously, Jake, you’re acting like a total dick right now, she has every right to question your motives when you refuse to step up and talk to her like an adult.

Marc's right, Y/N’s been worried sick for weeks, it’s not healthy for either of them to be dealing with that much stress.

Jake rolled his eyes, ignoring the other two that were trying to tell him how to feel, he would deal with things on his own time.

If you don’t tell her what’s going on, then I will, or would you rather Steven tell her that you’re nearly ready to walk out on her?

“Shut the fuck up! She doesn’t need to know what’s going on right now!” Jake couldn’t control his emotions, tensions had been running high for a while, and right now he was about to blow a fuse.

Tell me I’m wrong and I won’t say anything to her. She’s having our daughter, Jake, Y/N deserves better than to be left in the dark.

“You don’t think I know that? We’ve discussed having kids before, but neither of us were ready for it to be right now. So excuse me for being fucking nervous,” The sun was now beaming down on Jake, heat slowly sinking into his skin as he stopped in front of what looked like a book store.

You can be nervous Jake, but don’t push her away because you refuse to talk things through like an adult. Marc and I have been helping her do things that should have been you, I’m pretty sure her doctor knew it was me at the last appointment.

They’d both found out the gender of the baby. A little girl that was growing perfectly fine, Jake could already tell she’d had Y/N’s nose. Except Jake had been playing backseat driver while Steven went to the appointment, using the excuse of being exhausted from a recent trip. Y/N hadn’t believed him for a second, instead hiding the pain in her eyes with a smile. 

Steven could always tell when she was upset, call it a sixth sense or whatever, but he was in tune with everything she felt. He’d mention it to Marc when he noticed she was feeling more upset than normal. It could’ve been due to the hormones, sure, but Steven wasn’t going to make her deal with any of this alone.

“It doesn’t matter if the doctor knew, they’re gonna think I’m some piece of shit anyway,” Jake muttered under his breath before turning and heading into the book store.

The person manning the register paid him no mind.

Maybe he could find a book to read for the baby, he’d been doing it when Y/N was asleep, always making sure she wouldn’t wake up before reaching over to his bedside and grabbing one of his personal books.

Steven had offered some space in the book shelves that lined the walls, but Jake always claimed he had no use for them, that he barely read as it was. 

“Excuse me? Do you have any children’s books?” Jake was almost nervous to see how small the section was, most small shops didn’t have enough for him to choose from anyway.

“We do, it’s right through that doorway, should be pretty easy to find,” They hadn’t even bothered to turn around, still stacking books carefully, and yet carelessly in the same moment.

Instead of responding Jake walked over to where they’d said, jaw dropping open at the wide selection of different books. There were bedtime stories, books he’d read as a kid. Well, that Marc had read as a kid. Hell there were even books about Egyptology that were for kids.

Without thinking too hard, Jake grabbed a few books, snagging the last Egyptology book and heading over to the register. He laid them down on the counter as the cashier turned to face him, the kid looked barely eighteen, bags under his eyes almost as dark as Jakes.

“You’re gonna make some kid very happy mister,” The kid was smiling, ringing up each book and setting them into a plastic bag.

“They’re for my daughter, I’ve been meaning to read more to her and I thought why not start now,” Jake smiled at the kid, trying to seem more friendly than he tended to be.

“That’s really awesome, I kinda wish my parents had been able to read to me more as a kid, but they did what they could,” The kid cleared his throat, telling Jake the total. 

Jake reached for his wallet, handing him enough cash to cover the total, and leave a decent tip in the glass jar that sat beside his now-bagged books. He looked floored when Jake dropped two twenty’s into the jar, as if no one else bothered to tip. Books were a chance to escape reality, why not give where it helps?

“Have a nice day kid, try not to get into trouble,” Jake wasn’t sure why he’d said it, he didn’t know who he was so why did it matter.

He smiled almost nervously, wringing his hands together for a moment before sliding the bag over to Jake, nodding slowly. “Thanks, I’ll be here all day anyway,” Jake glanced down at the nametag pinned to his shirt.

Peter.

An easy name to remember. He’d have to swing by later on and get a few more books when he had the time. Well, if he wasn’t thrown in the dog house til the baby got here at least.

Just go back to the apartment and apologize, and don’t half ass it either, she deserves a true apology.

Marc’s right, she’s probably been up all night waiting for you to get home. The last thing any of us need is to be put in the doghouse. 

“Yeah, I know,” Jake couldn’t stop thinking about the ring he'd hidden away. 

He’d originally bought it after their six month anniversary. He knew deep down that Y/N was the woman he wanted to marry, but with Marc still being married to Layla he couldn’t do that. And now with him being an absolute dumbass, he couldn’t very well propose yet.

You can propose to her, Jake, I’m sure she’d say yes even after you guys had a fight, lord knows I pissed off Layla more times than I could count and she still said yes.

“That is not the same Marc, Y/N deserves better than anything I’ve ever given her,” Jake said, turning onto their street.

The other houses, and apartments were quiet in the early morning, nothing but the sounds of birds, and distant cars could be heard. What if they got a cat together? Could that be something fun? Or would one of the other two reject the idea before it could even form?

Personally I’d love a cat, but I don’t know how much change Y/N could handle right now.

She’d be fine, hell all she’s been talking about lately are her friend's cat that just had kittens. Maybe we can reach out and see if we can adopt one of them?

It wasn’t a terrible idea, she trusted her friend and knew the kittens would be in good health if they were to adopt one.

“Aren’t they planning the baby shower too? With her other friend, whatshername?” Jake knew he wasn’t going to impress Y/N’s friends, not when he constantly forgot their names.

Lala, and Kaitlyn, we’ve told you this nearly five times already. It’s supposed to be a surprise though so don’t say anything.

Jake nodded to himself, mainly letting Steven know that he wouldn’t tell Y/N what was going on behind the scenes. Maybe he could propose then, slip the ring onto her finger without her noticing.

After getting his keys out, and unlocking both the deadbolt and the door lock, Jake stepped inside the apartment. Y/N was curled up on the couch asleep, arms wrapped around the stuffed Tarewet Steven had bought for the baby. 

Well, I guess your apology will have to wait, if you wake her up you’re insane.

Marc’s right, she’s going to need all the sleep she can get. The doctor mentioned at her last appointment that rest is best for her and the baby.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on waking the pregnant woman,” Jake whispered, setting down the bag of books onto the coffee table.

Y/N hadn’t even stirred, breathing even and relaxed as she clutched the stuffed hippo tighter. Jake couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his face, this was the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Without thinking about it too much, Jake grabbed one of the books out of the bag, kneeling down beside Y/N and beginning to read to her belly. They’d picked out her name the same day they found out what they were having. Arya Rose Lockley. Or Spector, or even Grant depending on who was fronting. Though realistically they’d have to take Marc’s last name, he was the true owner of the body.

They’d always be Jake's daughter first and foremost, Arya Lockley had a nice ring to it too, along with Y/N Lockley.

“No puedo esperar para conocerte, tu madre y yo hemos estado esperando tanto tiempo.” Jake would do anything for his two babies, promising them each the world.

Had Jake lifted his head, he would’ve known that Y/N was awake, eyes glowing with happiness as she watched the father of her daughter read to them in Spanish. Jake had mentioned teaching them Spanish, while Steven would teach them French. 

“I hope she gets your curls, she’ll look so cute,” Jake’s head whipped up, staring back at Y/N who was still watching him lovingly.

He opened his mouth to apologize, to tell her how sorry he was for everything he’d said, and that none of it was true.

“I already forgave you, Jake, why don’t we get into bed so you can talk to Arya there?” Y/N didn’t give him a second to think about it before she was pushing herself off the couch.

Jake held her lower back as they walked to the bedroom, almost afraid something would happen to her. Y/N crawled into the bed first, laying on her side with a hand pressed against her belly. Jake grabbed some comfy clothes, changing quickly and tossing his other clothes near the laundry basket.

“I’ll get to that later, now get your butt in this bed mister,” Y/N patted the space beside her, giggling when Jake all but threw himself into the bed.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush to his chest as they cuddled. Marc, and Steven were asking for a brief minute of control to say hello. Jake refused, pressing kisses to Y/N’s cheeks, lips, and jaw. They could take control after he’d been truly forgiven by Y/N, until then he was going to make sure Y/N knew how much he loved her. tagging: @mentalfictionleftmyassbehind, @itstartswithhelloo @daddysfavoritesexkitten @darklingbrekksov @simonsbluee @gaylemonshark translations: No puedo esperar para conocerte, tu madre y yo hemos estado esperando tanto tiempo-I can't wait to meet you, your mother and I have been waiting so long

[melodygatesauthor]

The Best Kept Secrets - Steven's Story

dbf!Steven Grant X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake -

Marc's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 8.6k

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Steven since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his drink as if to say cheers. He still looked nervous as you remembered, and you wondered if that would ever change. Looking at him now though, you found it a little endearing, the way he stood awkwardly next to you. He gestured to the cake.

“Looks like someone’s a genius,” he sniffed out a laugh, “you. Can’t believe you’ve graduated, seems like only yesterday you were leavin’ to go on your big college adventure.”

You pulled your lips into a tight smile, “yeah, I guess I’m a pretty big deal,” you giggled at your attempt to sound conceited, “heard the job market sucks though. Not looking forward to that.”

“Well, as long as you’ve got a good resume, shouldn’t be a problem for someone smart as you, right?” He gulped some of his wine down and then looked at you with those brown eyes that seemed to sparkle sometimes when the light hit them just right.

You felt your cheeks get flush over Steven endlessly complimenting your intelligence. This was the first time you’d really looked at Steven. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but he always had a disheveled appearance, oversized clothes, and a nervous demeanor that didn’t exactly scream ‘lady's man’. The way he looked at you now though had your stomach fluttering with excitement. You noticed the way his eyes went half lidded as he looked you over too, as though you were the thing making him buzzed instead of the wine.

You cleared your throat, breaking the awkwardly silent trance you were both under.

“I actually don’t have a resume,” you said softly, realizing that he was probably going to think you were an idiot for not having the most basic thing you needed for a job in the first place.

“Oh we can’t have that can we? Tell you what,” his eyes seemed to light up, “I’m going to be gone two weeks on holiday after tomorrow, but when I get back, why don’t we go over that resume together? I’ve had to make one or two in my career.” Steven gave you his usual dopey smile, but this time you felt your stomach flutter.

You nodded, sipping your drink, “that would actually be amazing.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting the casual conversation. “I gotta go, see you around, Steven.”

“Yeah…you too, love.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Steven. Steven was always telling fascinating mythological tales around the fire that had apparently bored everyone else in the audience. Your father was struggling to keep his eyes open while Steven rambled on about Khonshu, the moon god. Truth be told, you found it all extremely fascinating. You leaned on your hand, watching him and listening intently. He looked over at you and smiled. Steven’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling you had was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol talking, that was the only logical explanation.

A little while later, you were tipsy and felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, no matter how hard you tried to keep them open.

They closed again, and when you opened them this time, it was only you and Steven left around the fire.

Closed again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sudden movement stirred you awake. You were being carried by a set of strong arms. Did your dad come back to get you? No. He would’ve woken you up so you could walk to bed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s shoulders and buried your face in his neck. Steven, you thought.

He smelled like fresh linen sheets that had been on a clothesline all day. Your lips brushed the soft skin there, and you felt a strong sense of comfort wash over you. Alcohol had a way of making you forget to filter your emotions, and right now you were hoping Steven would never let go. You didn’t know why you felt that way. None of it made sense. It’s not like he’d made any sort of pass at you during your growing up. He certainly had been respectful all night.

When you got to your room, you stirred and looked up at him. He put you down gently, one foot at a time, but never took his eyes off of you, nor did you take your eyes off of him. You grabbed either side of his baggy denim jacket. You weren’t sure if the attraction was one sided or not until Steven grabbed your hip in one hand, and cupped your cheek in the other.

You went for it, closing the gap between your lips, not wanting to give the nervous man a second to reconsider. He must’ve drank too much as well just based on the way his tongue tasted in your mouth. It was delicious, exciting, and forbidden. Steven pushed you back onto the bed, never letting his mouth disconnect from yours. He climbed over you, taking you completely by surprise. You thought for sure that the usual ‘by the book good boy’ Steven wouldn’t dream of doing something with his best friend’s daughter, but here he was on top of you with his tongue down your throat.

Steven kissed along your jaw and moved to your neck, peppering soft and wet kisses there. You grabbed his hand, guiding it to the waist of your jeans. You clasped your hand over your mouth when he dragged his thick finger over your folds, finding your clit with ease. He teethed your earlobe, inciting a high pitched and muffled squeak from you.

“This is so stupid of me, shit,” Steven said through gritted teeth.

“It’s okay, we can just…we’re drunk, it will be like nothing happened tomorrow okay?” You looked at him, desperate for him to stay.

He peered up at you with a hooded and drunken gaze. His lips were swollen and glossy. He went back in for more sloppy kisses, moaning deeply into you while his fingers kept working over your greedy clit. You brought your hands up and tangled them in his locks.

You felt him churning his hips against your knee. He was hard, and from what you could tell he wasn’t lacking in size either. He never stopped working on you with his incredibly dexterous fingers though, rolling his fingers over that little nub that made you do the most morally questionable acts. You bit Steven’s lip, letting it snap back on his bottom teeth. He whimpered and you felt him start thrusting his hips faster against you.

“Steven, you feel so good. Don’t stop touching me please. I’m so…ah–so–close–I’m–oh shit.”

You came, cunt contracting in waves as Steven stole every moan from your mouth into his. He was grinding faster and faster against your leg until finally he stopped. You felt a wet heat soak through your jeans and onto your thigh while Steven was open mouth panting on top of you. Neither of you moved for a while. You weren’t sure what had him frozen in place, but for you it was the fear of looking him in the eye and realizing what you both had just done.

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You were the first to move, pushing him off of you and rushing to the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you saw yourself in the mirror you felt immediate disgust and regret. You shouldn’t have done that. That was your dad’s best friend, and you’d just let him get you off while he came in his pants on top of you.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

----

The next morning at breakfast, you and Steven kept stealing awkward glances at each other. He managed to make small talk with your father, not sounding much different than usual, but you and him both remembered what had happened the night before. You were struggling to figure out how things were going to go back to normal after that. How was he supposed to just keep coming over for get togethers and barbecues all summer now that you two had this weird thing between you?

“C-can you pass the orange juice?” You asked Steven, holding out your hand.

“You cold honey?” Your dad asked.

“Um, yeah a little, I’ll just put on a sweater when I go upstairs,” you damned your nervous stammering.

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to talk to Steven who, at that moment, was clearly pretending to look at his phone. You were surprised to see someone like Steven using a smartphone. He always seemed like he was a little behind the times. You took a bite of your pancake and pointed at his phone with your fork.

“Whatchya lookin’ at?” You asked.

It seemed that actually talking to one another and pretending like nothing happened worked. Steven loosened up and showed you some pictures of the place he was going on his vacation. He was going to visit London, and talked excitedly about the museum they had there. He even joked that he’d like to bring you there some time. Except…it wasn’t a joke. Steven’s eyes were dead serious as he looked over at you.

“Steven I…we can’t…”

“I know…I’m sorry, sorry I shouldn’t have said anything, sorry.” He put his phone away quickly and sipped his orange juice.

When your dad came back downstairs, Steven seemed to have a hard time recollecting himself after his little comment. Breakfast ended abruptly with Steven looking at the clock and feigning surprise. He thanked your dad for letting him crash there for the night, made up some excuse as to why he needed to leave so suddenly and then waved goodbye to both of you before making a quick exit. You wondered if you were ever going to see him again.

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Steven arrived. You hadn’t heard him come in, and nearly screamed when you heard papers shuffling downstairs while you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his car parked in the driveway. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. Steven was there. He was actually there.

“He’s just here to help you with your resume,” you said to yourself in your vanity mirror, as though that was somehow supposed to stop the ache growing between your legs.

It wasn’t like it was easy to push away the thoughts that crept into your mind. You had to admit that there were a couple nights where you’d made a panting, wet mess of yourself while you imagined him buried deep inside of you, making you so cock dumb you could hardly breathe. Now you were alone together, and he was supposed to be helping you with your resume. You needed to pull yourself together. This was your dad’s best friend, and no good could come out of fulfilling your stupid fantasies.

When you finally came downstairs, dressed in something modest to help you both suppress your desires, you thought you were going to be able to stay strong. He was sitting on the couch, back to, fluffy dark curls in disarray as usual. Your mind, for a mere second, flashed to your fingers entangled in them, but you quickly shook he thought from your head.

You can do this, you said to yourself, it’s just Steven. It’s just good old–

The fucker turned around, bright eyes shining like it was the first time he’d ever seen you. You stopped in your tracks, pressing your hand to your chest like he’d just punched the air from your lungs. There were no words coming out of your mouth. You wanted to ask him how his trip was. You wanted to start discussing the pros and cons of putting certain extracurricular activities on your resume.

He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. He was nervous. Why wasn’t he talking? You clearly weren’t going to be the one to say the first word, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He didn’t talk, he just walked closer, each scuff of his shoe was deafening in the quiet air of your house.

“Stev–”

His lips were over yours before you could think, and you were falling into it hopelessly, grabbing the hem of his denim coat to pull yourself in closer. How was this happening? This was Steven, the guy who your dad trusted more than anyone, and he was grabbing both of your hips and pulling them tightly against his. You felt his prodding erection so strong and needy against your lower abdomen. If he couldn’t be the bigger person, you had to be. You pulled away from his arms while simultaneously pushing him back. He looked at you like a kicked puppy, lips pressed together tightly.

“Steven we can’t. We can’t,” you insisted, despite your wanting to let him bend you over the arm of the couch.

He nodded slowly, “I’m sorry I know. Sorry, I understand, truly love, it’s just…damn…sorry.”

He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to you. You walked up to him and put a hand on his back, looking over to meet his eye. He looked hurt by your rejection, but you knew he wasn’t stupid. You knew he understood why this, whatever this was, couldn’t continue for a moment longer. You both cared about your father so much, you couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him.

“S’not like I have girls throwing themselves at me y’know? I know I’m your dad’s best mate but…you’re so smart, you’re talented, not to mention incredibly beautiful I can’t–”

“Steven.”

“-and all they’ve ever done is laugh at me when I ramble on about the things I like, and you looked at me like—”

“Steven,” you repeated.

“-no one’s ever really cared about anything I’ve had to say. Not really and—”

“Steven!” Finally he stopped and looked at you. “I get it, and I’m sorry too. We just…can’t.”

You didn’t realize Steven had felt that way about you. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same, but you knew you couldn’t act on it. It wasn’t fair to your dad. After several more apologies, Steven determined he couldn’t bear to stay there and help you with your resume, so he grabbed his papers quickly and hurried out of your house.

----

After three weeks passed, you wondered if Steven would ever come back to your house. That is until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he’d received a text from Steven yesterday. Apparently he felt bad that you still didn’t have a job after being home all that time. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about the prospect of being alone with him again. Your dad left, and you just stood there wondering what you were going to do.

You could still remember what Steven’s lips tasted like, and what his hands felt like. You still thought about him when you were alone in your room gasping quietly with two fingers plunged deep inside your wet channel. You wanted him, but you were afraid. What if your dad found out? You couldn’t risk it…but maybe…maybe, Steven was worth the risk.

You thought for a moment about your alternatives; the men you were supposed to be interested in; the men who weren’t best friends with your father. In your experience, most of them treated you like you were an idiot and not worth their time. None of them acted like you were important to them. They certainly didn’t look at you as though you were the only woman in existence and tell you that you were smart, talented and beautiful.

They also didn’t know you like Steven did. Steven was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to help you with your impossibly difficult homework assignments, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to get around paying full price for your textbooks. – ‘Just buy them an edition or two under the one the professor asks you for, yeah? They’re pretty much the same thing and way cheaper.’ –

By the time he arrived a couple hours later, you realized that Steven was the obvious choice above all others, it was so clear. You walked down the stairs silently. Why were you still denying it? Was it because you knew there was no way it could really work out? Surely you’d be stuck perpetually lying and sneaking around to avoid getting caught. It would be an exciting endeavor at first, but it would stop being fun and eventually be downright exhausting. When you saw him this time, sitting there in your living room back to on the couch with his laptop and notebooks, you didn’t care anymore. All of that could get dealt with later. You wanted him in every way.

You wanted him now.

“Steven I–”

You froze in your tracks, seeing his laptop screen over the top of his head. He had a website open, a dating site. You could see the lewd messages between him and a pretty girl on the screen. Steven said a few curses while he tried to close the window, meanwhile you were trying to calm yourself down. You had no real reason to be upset. You’d turned him down, he was just doing what he should’ve been doing from the start, dating women that weren’t his best friend’s kid. That didn’t stop you from feeling the disappointment pool in your gut like a bad meal.

“Sorry, just…there.”

He finally got the window moved and now had a text document open. You took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on the floor. Why was this bothering you so much? It should’ve been a relief. He was moving on, and now you could too. It was simple. Life could go back to normal.

“Actually…” You gulped harshly, holding back the tears that threatened just behind the surface, “actually I wish dad had asked me before he texted you. I don’t need…” you gestured to him and the area surrounding, “this anymore.”

“What, you don’t need—oh, I see what’s happenin’ here,” Steven’s smile grew over his face, and for a moment you felt hopeful that he was going to scoop you up and kiss your sorrows away.

“Y-you do?”

“Yeah…I do…you missy got a job and you haven’t told your dad yet!” He walked over and grabbed your shoulders. Was this the part where he kissed you?

Nope.

“Congratulations! See, I knew you were brilliant. Didn’t even need me after all.”

It would seem that the universe was looking out for you anyway. Your dad walked through the door having forgotten his lunch in the fridge earlier that morning. He mumbled about how he was glad they let him leave to grab it, but damned himself still for forgetting it in the first place. If you and Steven had been standing there, tongues down each other’s throats…you wouldn't have been caught so easily. It would appear the rejection was a blessing in disguise.

Steven kept your ‘secret’ about the job you didn’t really have and proceeded to strike up a conversation with your dad while you just felt the world crumble around you. You’d never felt such a pit of dread in your stomach. You felt numb, and walked up to your room, deciding to stay there for the remainder of the day.

----

You weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Steven coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. Steven had seemed to have moved on easily from you. You even heard your dad talking about how he had a girl he’d taken on a date a couple of times. You wondered if it was the same girl he was messaging on the dating site. Two dates within the last two weeks. He must’ve really been smitten with her. Meanwhile, you were spending your evenings trying to stop thinking about that stupid night you’d spent together, and how much you regretted all of it.

But mostly you regretted pushing him away when he’d come back from his holiday.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He was so handsome. Your stomach fluttered wildly, making you feel nauseous. You turned back to the tv and pressed play again, not saying a word.

“Hi love. Just coming in to check on you, y’know? Your father asked me to so…here I am,” he sounded timid, like he was trying to calm down a wild animal. He knew you were upset…was it that obvious?

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need him there anyway, checking in on you. You were twenty-two, not seven. He had no reason to be there other than your father acting over protective in a way that was even more annoying than he could possibly understand. Steven walked around to the other side of the couch and sat down. Looking up at the screen, he pointed and chuckled.

“Never seen this film before, but don’t think that’s very smart, burnin’ their money like that yeah?” He shifted, wiping his hands on his pants.

He was nervous again.

You finally looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay here. You can tell my dad you checked on me and just go.”

“I’m guessing you heard about Jane…”

“Didn’t know her name,” you said coldly, “but yeah, I heard about her.”

“I just thought that…if you really didn’t want this, whatever this is, then I’d better find some way to move on. Maybe you should—”

“I’ll be right back,” you slammed the remote down and started for the stairs.

“I’ll pause it if you—”

“Nope! Enjoy the movie Stevie!”

You had no right.

You had no right to be as angry as you were about Steven finding someone that he could spend time with out in the open. He could kiss her in the street, he could take her on a date, he could bring her over and put his arm around her in front of your dad. She could give him all the things that you couldn’t.

Now it was too late. You were sitting in your room, trying desperately not to cry so loudly that Steven would hear you from downstairs. Either you failed in your attempt to be quiet, or he was going to come up to your room whether he heard you or not, because he pushed your door open with a low creak. You looked up at him, standing there with his hands balled up in fists in front of himself. He looked almost like a child who was afraid of getting in trouble.

“Love?” He asked.

You wiped your eyes quickly, turning away so he couldn’t see you.

“Please go away, Steven,” you said in a nasally tone.

“Yeah, I will…in a minute.”

You felt the bed shift next to you and you turned your back to him completely, crossing your legs on the bed. You felt uncomfortable knowing he was right behind you. Your feelings of discomfort were amplified when you felt his hand on your shoulder with a light tug. He was strong, and you weren’t in a position to fight back, so you fell into his chest.

“Are we gonna talk about this or are we going to keep pretending we don’t feel…something?” He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Y’know I only went out with her because you made it exceptionally clear that you were finished with me...but I never stopped thinking about you.”

“We’re going to keep pretending,” you turned around and looked at him deeply, “because it’s wrong, Steven.”

“So then let’s just…” he leaned in close to you, “we can just let it go if…” you leaned closer, “if you want.”

“We really shouldn’t…” his nose brushed against yours, “if we get caught my dad…” your mouths were almost touching, “he’ll be so mad I–”

It was over. You pushed Steven back onto the bed and kissed him sloppily, desperate to feel him again. You straddled him and already felt the strength of his erection pressing against you through his pants. He grabbed your hips and held them in place, rubbing himself against you hungrily. While it did feel good, having him dry hump you and feeling the sweet friction of the clothes you wore against your needy clit, you wanted more.

“Get your pants off, please,” you practically begged, working on discarding your own bottoms.

Steven complied, and when he did you froze in awe at the size of him. He was bigger than you’d thought he would be which excited you as you climbed over him again. You felt his fat tip prodding at your entrance, becoming slick with your juices. He rested a large hand on either of your hips, squeezing hard. You thought he was going to let you set the pace but…

“Sorry love, sorry I–” he grunted and thrust upward into you while simultaneously pulling you down, gasping as he did, “-oh just had to feel you—oh shit. Been thinkin’ about it f’so long now.”

“Oh-Steven oh my–” you fell forward, leaning down to kiss him while he jackhammered into you at an unforgiving pace.

The sound of skin slapping skin was deafening and he never slowed the speed at which he fucked you from below. You tried to keep your lips over his but you couldn’t so you sat upright, looking down at him. He licked his bottom lip and then trapped it under his top teeth. Both of his large hands were gripping your thighs, holding you in place with a bruising strength.

“Lean back f’me, love. Grab my legs.”

You whined as you did what he asked, arching back and grabbing onto his shins.

“There you go darling, now slide back and forth.” You started rocking your hips as he’d instructed, dragging his cock along your walls in a delicious rhythm. “Yeah, there y’go, just like that.”

Your jaw fell open when Steven pressed the pad of his thumb on your clit. He started rolling his finger over the sensitive nub, circling gently. You whined at the touch, looking down at him. His strong jaw was still clenched while he bit his bottom lip. You kept sliding yourself back and forth, taking his cock as deep as you could and feeling the way it would twitch inside of you on every pass. He felt so good, any reservations you had were gone, he was all you wanted…all you needed.

“Does that feel good, love? You’re squeezing so tight–god–it’s so…” 

Steven was still using his free hand to hold onto your thigh and help your movements. You could feel him churning his hips what little bit he could in rhythm with your own. Thank goodness your father wasn’t home or there would be no denying what you were doing. You were practically screaming Steven’s name while he dragged his fat cock against that sweet spot deep inside of you. His thumb kept brushing over your clit, sending electric currents through your entire body.

“Feels so good Steven–yes ah!”

He shocked you when he sat up so suddenly, bringing his face close to yours. You kissed him deeply and started sliding up and down over him. He disconnected his lips from yours and looked at you, eyes so hooded with desire that you’d think he was drunk if you didn’t know any better.

“Love the way you work yourself on me darling. You look so pretty when you’re taking what you want from me. Don’t stop–mm yes–just–like–that.”

You’d never heard Steven’s voice sound so rough and wrecked before. He lifted your shirt and took one of your nipples into his mouth, humming into your breast as he did. When you looked down all you could see was his brown curls peeking out under your shirt. His hands worked to spread your ass cheeks and help you move while you continued grinding down on top of him. You felt a bead of spit trickling down your torso from Steven’s continued mawing at your chest.

“Steven, not gonna make it much longer!” You whined loudly.

“I know love, I can feel it,” he grunted. “Just let go f’me, I’m right there.”

If not for Steven’s strong arms continuing the pace, you would’ve stopped moving the moment your orgasm took over your body. It felt so good your legs went completely numb, struggling to hold you up. You felt your cunt squeezing around his girth, contracting and releasing while you gushed over him. His hips shot up, one harsh snap as his own climax peaked, hot white spend filling you so full that you felt it leak out around the sides of his cock.

You were both a breathless heap when you were done and coming back down from your high. You found yourself wrapped in his arms in your bed while sleep took you both over. You never thought in a million years that you and Steven would’ve done something so intimate, but now that you’d actually felt him, and been so close to him, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

----

Steven had awoken the following morning next to you and you wondered what would take place after that. Was he going to want to continue seeing you, or was he going to continue seeing that Jane girl?

He was going to continue seeing Jane…and then he didn’t see you again for another three weeks. When he’d left that morning after he ‘checked’ on you, he assured you that continuing to date her would be a way of throwing your father off your trail. The two of you would be able to keep seeing each other in secret, and your dad wouldn’t think anything of it. The only problem was, you weren’t seeing each other at all. Steven straight up blew you off, so when your dad told you he was coming over for dinner, you felt anxious almost immediately.

Dinner was almost ready when your phone buzzed on the counter. You picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. Steven clearly had no intention of pursuing things with you further, so why were you going to wait for him? It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell to let him go though, after everything you’d been through together.

When he walked into the house sporting his usual nervous smile and disheveled dark locks, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Steven.” You said coldly with a glare to match as he approached the dining table.

“Oh, hey!” He looked genuinely happy to see you. 

You tried so hard not to look like you wanted to turn him to stone with your gaze, but you couldn’t help it. After the night you’d shared together, and the things he said you would do under your dad’s nose, him standing you up had done nothing but piss you off. You didn’t even want to go on a date with the loser from the coffee shop, you’d just wanted something…anything to help clear your mind from Steven, and yet here he was, sitting right in front of you, acting like nothing fazed him at all.

You wasted no time telling him about the date.

“Steven, I wanted to tell you how excited I am about tomorrow night, I’m going on a date!”

You looked up from your plate to see Steven with a forkful of mashed potatoes sitting in front of his wide open mouth. He seemed to be frozen by your words, and a snide smirk rested over your face. He popped the mash into his mouth, getting a little on his chin and shirt while he just kept looking at you.

“Well…” he said, mouth full and using his napkin to dab his chin, “that’s…erm…that’s good innit?” He took a huge gulp of wine.

You shrugged, “I suppose. Sometimes you just have to take what you want when things don’t go your way.”

The conversation wasn’t about you and Joey anymore.

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. Steven’s whole demeanor changed, like he was mentally disconnected from the conversation, even while he spoke.

“Oh, erm, you like this guy then? He’s nice?” He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was poking the food on his plate nervously.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “if nothing else he’ll be a good distraction. Keep things interesting.”

Steven nodded, and looked back up at you. He was forcing himself to eat, you could tell by the way he popped his fork into his mouth again unenthusiastically. His eyes were glossing over. You knew he was seconds from the waterworks and you hoped that your dad didn’t notice. When you looked in your father’s direction, he was fixated on his own phone, likely something to do with work.

Steven finally responded, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with then.”

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Steven were having right under his nose. “You’ve got a good job, now it’s time to find someone who makes you happy right?”

“Yeah, he is right isn’t he? I mean…he’s got someone to make him happy, Judy, right Steven? So he should know how nice it feels.” You kept your eyes on your dad who admittedly looked at you quizzically when you said something so clearly pointed at Steven.

You just made it uncomfortably awkward…even more so than it already was.

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen, effectively ending the awkward exchange.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Steven continued to avoid looking at each other. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Steven would have enough sense to just let you walk away and let the spark between you both die down.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Steven working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Steven twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him with confusion, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked. He stumbled so you got up quickly and put your hands on his shoulders. “Hey! Careful. Here…sit down.”

You helped him onto your bed hurriedly before your dad woke up to his drunk friend being a little too noisy in your bedroom. Steven groaned and covered his face with his hands, slouching over.

“I’m so dumb, I’m sorry. Listen to me love, please, just listen and don’t kick me out.” Steven looked at you with those eyes that made your body melt into a puddle every time you saw them.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “What?” Maybe you sounded a little too harsh, but to say you were angry was an understatement.

He took a deep breath, “I made a huge mistake. I am so sorry I tried to gather the courage to reach out to you, but then I thought about your dad and I started to feel a bit guilty.”

“It’s a little late for that isn’t it?”

“A bit…yeah a bit…but I still felt it. And like, wakin’ up next to you was the best moment of my entire life. I can’t even begin to describe it, it was like–“

“I know Steven, I felt the same.”

Relief flooded over his body and that love-dumb smile spread across his lips. He grabbed both of your hands and pulled you to stand between his legs, resting his face between your breasts. You felt a vibration across your sternum from him mumbling to you. You stepped back and looked down at him.

“What?”

“I said, I’m sorry.” His eyes were glossy again. “I didn’t have the courage to reach out to you, and then it had been over a week and I thought surely I shouldn’t reach out to you now because you’d be angry no doubt. I wanted to, I really, really–”

You were a certified moron for kissing him right then. He didn’t prove to you in the slightest that he cared about you, not with his actions anyway, but you were still a little buzzed from the wine you’d had earlier, and you felt the arousal building between your legs. Not to mention the small part of you that actually believed the words coming out of his mouth. When you tried to pull away from the kiss, Steven wrapped his arms around your bottom and pulled you close. You conceded, cupping his cheeks and sucking his lower lip in between your teeth.

If kissing Steven was one thing, it was messy, sloppy, and wet. He tasted like wine and something entirely unique to Steven. You wanted to devour him in every sense of the word, to feel him around you and inside of you all at once. He was faster than you, quickly removing his pants and getting them down around his ankles, staying positioned still on the edge of the bed.

The cheap lace panties you’d worn must’ve had a small tear already started, that or Steven was deceptively strong, because he ripped them all too easily. He threw them aside like they’d personally wronged him and you moved to straddle him on the edge of the mattress. The thick head of his cock was already prodding so hungrily against your greedy hole. You finally took your mouth off Steven’s and looked at him. He was so pretty, lips glossy and swollen from your oral onslaught.

“Did you fuck her?” You asked, breathless.

Steven shook his head, “no, couldn’t bring m’self to do that to you love. Not a chance.”

He leaned up and kissed you again, even harder than before, which you didn’t think was possible. You took your frustration out on his lips, still mad at him for leaving you high and dry for so long. Oh but you weren’t dry now, you were anything but dry. Steven grabbed your hips in both of his big hands and pulled you down roughly over his length. You moaned deeper into his mouth, attempting to keep yourself from alerting your father who was, hopefully, sleeping down the hall.

Steven grabbed your asscheeks firmly and started bouncing you like you were weightless over his girth. He was hitting you so deep, filling you so full you could hardly stand it. You couldn’t bring yourself to take your lips from his though. The way they felt, the fixation you had on making the flesh there all raw and slick was maddening.

He was so noisy, not only in the way the bed creaked with his movements, but his hungry moans that you gladly swallowed whole would wake the neighborhood if you didn’t stifle them somehow. You broke it off and looked down at him. His puffy lips, so swollen from your relentless sucking, were spit soaked and shining.

“You need to quiet down Steven or my dad is going to hear us,” you whispered softly.

“I know love I know it just-oh my God–it just feels–it feels so good.” 

He grabbed the back of your neck for more sloppy kisses, as though they were his life support. Now one-handed, he relied on you to take over the motions, and you were happy to comply. You slid yourself up and down over his fat cock, feeding him your whines and whimpers while it split you open. He pulled your head back, breaking your faces apart once again.

“Don’t want you going on that date love, I don’t like it,” he looked at you so heartbroken you slowed your movements.

“I have to go Steven, we can’t let my dad know that we’re up to something, and if we’re both dating someone else then–” He interrupted you with his mouth again, “—then he’ll never suspect that–” another, “—we’re together.”

Steven shook his head, “don’t like the thought.”

He picked you up and laid you on your back without pulling out of you. Now you were both on the bed, him on top of you, thrusting slowly in what you assumed was an attempt to keep the noise to a minimum. You wished he could slam into you harder, despite knowing it would be a huge mistake.

“Don’t want you with someone else. Don’t want you makin’ these sounds for anyone else.” His face buried into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses there.

A sharp gasp escaped you when he nipped your neck. He started licking and sucking the skin there. You whined from the pain; he was drawing the flesh into his mouth harshly.

“Steven, you're going to leave a mark,” you warned, trying to pull yourself away from his mouth.

He hummed against you, fucking harder and sucking harder. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from alerting your father to what you and Steven were doing. That’s when you felt the arousal pooling like hot lava in your core. It came on so fast, hitting you like a wave until you were gushing and clenching around his wide girth. Steven choked out a low moan, finally releasing the hold he had on your neck. You felt him filling you, hot cum squelching out around him as he thrusted through his orgasm.

When you were both finished, he was breathing heavily with his face still resting on your neck. You knew why he was staying. You understood what he was feeling because you felt it too. You didn’t want to let go. An eternity could go by and it wouldn’t be enough time with him. He lifted himself up on his elbows and then leaned down to kiss you one more time.

“You’ve got to go on that date darling, I know you do but…I don’t want to ever hear about it alright? When we’re together, we don’t need to talk about any of it, I won’t talk about…her either. Please.” His eyes darted between yours rapidly.

You nodded, brushing your thumb over his cheek, “okay, not a word.”

---- 

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Steven.

He pulled up to the sidewalk, stopping fast right in front of you, a little water splashing up and nearly getting all over your shoes. Steven was fast to run over, umbrella at the ready for the short walk to the car. You didn’t even need the thing, truth be told, but you weren’t going to tell him that. He looked so damn happy just to be your knight in shining armor.

“It’s pourin’ out, love! Why didn’t you wait inside?” He yelled over the rain.

You ignored his question, finding yourself only focused on the way his dampened curls framed his handsome face. Maybe you did need the umbrella after all; It kept you both dry while you grabbed his coat and pulled him close, slotting your lips over his in a deep, passion filled kiss. He used his free hand to tug you in even closer by the small of your back.

“Steven…” You looked up at him and found yourself lost in the beauty of his sparkling eyes.

“Darling, you’re gonna catch a cold out here if we don’t get inside the car,” he held out his arm, “how about I get you home to change and then take I’ll take you out on a real date, hm?”

Your stomach fluttered at the thought. A real date? With Steven? You took his arm and let him lead you to the car, but your mind was still racing. He got on the other side and started driving off.

“You want to take me on a date?” You looked over at him incredulously.

He started his usual stammering, “w-well I mean…if you’d like to, y-yeah. Not gonna make you do anythin’ you don’t want to, I was just thinkin–”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want to.”

You pulled down the mirror in the car. You looked like a drowned rat, and felt grateful that Steven had offered to bring you home prior to taking you out on a date. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. You chuckled and flipped the visor back up. You really did look like shit. You wouldn’t even want to take you out looking like that.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, it’s just, what about my dad? We can’t just go out together, what if someone sees us? And what about Jane? I’m sure if she catches you out with another woman she won’t be too happy.”

Steven pulled into the driveway. It was awkwardly quiet except for the rain pitter pattering on the windshield. You didn’t get out right away, you were feeling too overwhelmed to move. On one hand, you were seriously considering the future with Steven. It was clear that you were both too hung up on each other to keep this hidden. On the other hand, you couldn’t fathom telling your father about this. What would he say?

“Well for starters, I broke up with Jane,” you looked over at Steven, eyes wide and buzzing from his words. “I felt too guilty stringing her along while I knew my heart wasn’t in it and…” he took your hand in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles softly, “every time I was with her, I felt miserable that I wasn’t with you.”

“What do you think we should do then?” You asked, looking at him and hoping he had some magical solution that didn’t involve telling your dad…ever.

“We have to tell your father, love. I know it’s not what you want to hear but…I can’t keep doin’ this. I want to be with you. Not hidin’, not sneakin’ about. I want to take you out and spoil you and be a real couple, you know?”

Damn it.

“Alright,” you let out the breath you’d been holding for far too long. Despite the anxiety pooling in your chest, you smiled, “let’s go on that date then.”

----

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

As a friendly reminder, I don't have a taglist anymore. You can follow @melodygatesupdates and turn on notifications for updates.

[goaways-stuff]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do moon knight headcanons about the boys w a mutant!y/n, w some sort of power that means the boys don't have to worry over safety all the time plz :)

ooo I love this idea

Protected

Steven Grant x gn! reader, Marc Spector x gn! reader, Jake Lockley x gn! reader

warnings: some fighting, mentions of trauma, slight angst, mostly fluff, reader with powers

a/n: I don't have DID, so if there's any harmful stereotypes/misinformation please let me know and I'll fix it :)

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Spanish translation(s):

•mi amor= my love

Steven:

Steven is absolutely obsessed with your powers. He loves watching you use them in combat as a golden light emits for your hands and slight up your arms. You can bend and move objects to your will and even attack enemies with the energy itself. You'll use your powers for everyday tasks like cooking and cleaning, so you can multi task. Sometimes, you'll hold the couch up so you can vacuum under it or stir the pot with your powers while chopping vegetables on the counter. Whatever it was, Steven was absolutely mesmerized. You'd even just let the energy emit from you hands so he could just watch it. He knew you could handle yourself much better than he ever could.

Marc:

Marc was much more hesitant to believe that you could fully handle yourself until he challenged you to a 1v1 where you absolutely beat his ass. Okay, you didn’t actually bang him.up that much, but you did get him to believe you. "Okay, Y/N, show me what you got," He said, starting to charge at you. You just used your powers to suspend him in mid air. You faked a yawn as he struggled to get put of your power's grip. "Y/N, let me down now," He grunted. "Now why would I do that? If you were an enemy and I let you down, you could just come charging at me again," You replied, now pretending to file your nails. "Fine, sweetheart, you win, you can handle yourself. Just please let me down," He continued his struggle. "Well, since you asked so nicely," You immediately ceased your power's grip on him, causing him to fall belly down onto the ground. He groaned in pain and rolled over onto his back. You stood over him, reaching out your hand. And ever since then, Marc is the least worried about you out of the three. Of Steven or Jake start to worry, he reminds them of that story, even if it's embarrassing to him. He'll take the teasing comments from Jake if it meant he was a little less worried about you.

Jake:

Jake was always the most worried of the three. He was the protector after all, and he felt completely responsible for your safety and well-being. You had proved to him on multiple occasions that you could handle more than yourself. Hell, you even saved his ass a couple of times. He would still try to constantly protect you, so when he did, you would do the same as you did with Marc. You held him suspended in mid air, sometimes upside down if you were particularly annoyed until he would promise not to worry about you so much. "Okay, I promise, mi amor, I swear," He begged. "Promise what, Jakey?"

"I promise that I'll stop trying to protect you all the time and let you handle yourself," He said unenthusiasticly. You let him down gently, which Marc would grumble about later, and kissed the tip of his nose. Then gently kissed his lips. "I love you, Jake. You spend far too much time worrying about others. Worry about yourself sometimes, please."

"I'll try, I'll try," He said before kissing you again. He did start to back off on his protectiveness of you. Whenever he did start to get nervous, Marc and Steven were there to comfort him, even though he often denied their comfort. It was his job to protect them. However, he always let you comfort him. You were the first person he actually felt protected by, and it was an amazing new feeling.

[just-a-bit-of-a-nerd]

Hey this is for my best friend… you can Steven grant x reader that the reader has insecurities for his body and Steven tells her how wonderful it is?

(gif not mine)

Author's note (PLEASE READ ALL OF THIS): Annon, please tell your friend that he or she is perfect the way they are. Society over the years has put labels on pretty and ugly. When really there is no such thing as ugly in my eyes. No one is ugly and everyone is perfect just the way they are because that's the way they were made, even if you don't believe in god like me, I think everything happens for a reason and there is a reason why you were given the body you have. So if your reading this and you feel down about yourself just remember that the people who think they’re ugly, are actually the most gorgeous people on this Earth.

Warnings: none really :)

Parring: Mostly Steven Grant x reader but also Marc Spector x reader and Jake Lockely x reader.

Summary: You're feeling a bit bad about your appearance but Steven is there to help you out

You couldn’t stop. Everyday without fail you seem to always spend more than 30 minutes looking at yourself in the mirror. Your curves, your breast and butt size, there was so much you wished to change about your body and you didn’t know why. You’ve always been like this, for as long as you could remember you hated your appearance. You have no clue why and you wished you could change the way you see yourself. 

You were still in front of the mirror when your boyfriend Steven walked through the door, you’ve been dating for a year now and you just moved in with him a week ago and you couldn’t be happier, he was perfect. Kind, a little socially awkward but that made him really cute in your eyes. Not only that but he was very attractive.

You would always go through phases of feeling this overwhelming feeling of fake confidence, it would last for up to a week or a few days, then it disappeared faster than it came. And then you’d get phases where you really felt down on yourself and your self-hatred would multiply by 100.

This was one of those times.

Steven pays attention to absolutely everything you do. He’s made mental notes about how you smile, the way your eyebrows furrow when you are confused, fases that you usually repeat in conversation. He pays attention to what you usually wear and the colors that look good one you and colors you like wearing. And he knew your body better than you do. Every curve, edge, and corner of your body and he loved all of it. He studies you like he’ll be tested in a week on everything about you. So he definitely caught on to the way you’d only wear hoodies or his clothes that looked huge on you, he also sees the sweats and baggy jeans you just started wearing. And whenever he suggests that you wear something a little more skin tight you always push away the idea and put on the baggiest clothes you own. And it’s not that Steven wants you to wear whatever he thinks you should, god no. To be honest Steven thinks you look amazing in anything you wear, it could be the ugliest outfit in the world but he’d still think you look amazingly stunning. It’s just that you’ve been off, you always look at yourself in the mirror for long periods of time, he does too…but he’s usually talking to someone. 

He’s worried about you and you know it. You’ve been trying to hide it and make it seem like everythings fine but it’s Steven, you can’t hide anything from him.

“Whatcha up to love?” He asks as he walks up behind you. He wraps his hand around your stomach and looks at you through the mirror. And you can’t help but compare. He’s so handsome and attractive, he shouldn't be with you, there are much prettier women out there who deserve him more than you do.

But that’s not how Steven saw it at all. In Steven, Marc and Jake’s eyes, you were the most beautiful women they’ve ever seen. You are absolutely gorgeous.

“Nothin much,” you stated as you turned to him, “just waiting for you” you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him close for a hug which he happily leaned in to bring you close.

Steven was still worried, this was the 5th time he’s walked in and you were staring at yourself in the mirror. All of the boys were worried.

“Ask her what’s wrong Steven,” Marc suggested from Steven’s mind. Steven obviously went to talk to Marc and Jake when he suspected that you were hiding something from them.

Steven didn’t want to pry into the things you didn’t wanna talk about but he was too worried, he needed to know if you felt off or upset with anything. He’s new at the whole relationship thing so he’s learning as he goes. He doesn;t wanna mess anything up with you two, he loves you too much to let himself lose you. But he also wants you to talk to him, he wants to know everything about you, he wants to help you through the good and the bad of everything.

“Love,” he starts off as he pulls away, “me, Marc, and Jake are a little worried about you, is there anything that’s bothering you? Maybe appearance wise?”

“No,” you immediately lied. You never liked to talk to others about your self view. It was your problem and it didn’t really concern anyone but you. And it was always so hard to explain to people why you felt the way yo9u did because you didn’t know why you hated yourself.

“eso es una maldita mentira,” Jake spoke up. He doesn’t really talk much or pay attention when he’s in the head space but he wanted to get to the bottom of this.

Steven also knows it was a lie, he knows everything about you, even how you lie.

“Love please don’t lie,” Steven begged in a pleading voice, “I don't want to pry, and I understand if you don’t want to talk, but can you please just tell me that and not lie, please?”

You hated doing this. You really didn’t want to talk about this, just not yet. But you also didn't want Steven to worry about you, about this.

“Look Steven,” you started as you placed your hands on his cheek, which he took in his own hands, “There is something, but I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet.”

Steven nodded in agreement, he understood that you really didn’t want to talk and that you would when you're ready and he respected that. You were like Marc in that sense, you didn’t like talking about your feelings and when you did you’d feel uncomfortable. Which is why none of the boys judged you for your dissection. But they could make you feel better until you were ready to talk.

“Okay love, We’ll always be here when you're ready,” Steven agreed.

This was one of the many reasons you loved your moon boys. They always did whatever made you comfortable and happy and you couldn’t be more grateful for the three of them. “Thank you so much Steven, I love you.”

“I love you more dove,” He answered as he kissed your hand, then he turned the both of you to face the mirror, “just know that you are perfect, your skin is so soft and beautiful, your eyes are such a pretty color and shape, your torso is such a beautiful shape, you truly are the most beautiful women that the three of us have ever seen love,” he finished by kissing your cheek as you looked at him through the mirror.

Even though you still didn’t believe everything they told you, you had this fuzzy feeling in your heart. Maybe one day you’d see what they see. A beautiful, smart, and bright young woman. And until then they’d keep reminding you that you are absolutely perfect just the way you are.

Because the people who think they’re ugly, are actually the most gorgeous people on this Earth.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[frozenfries]

Lost & Found (Steven Grant x Reader)

Prompt: Steven wakes up to find both his favourite jacket and his significant other missing.

Word Count: 465

• Since the day you met him, you’d never seen Steven don another jacket.

• You would often tease him that he’d wear it to the point of making holes if he wasn’t careful.

• He would simply chuckle and look down at it with a soft smile.

• “I like it.”

Steven hadn't expected that out of all things he could've lost, his coat would be one of them.

Although he knew he shouldn't be sentimental over a piece of clothing, his khaki green jacket was one of the few things that he held as a valuable possession. There was nothing special about it, with its three large pockets and round black buttons. Hell, it wasn’t even very warm. But it had been with him through the sweat, chaos, fatigue and disorder that was his everyday routine; truth be told, he needed some new outerwear since it had started to get worn at the edges, yet to find himself having to replace it now?

Sighing, he mournfully pulled out one of his older bomber jackets. Although better suited for the bitter winter winds, Marc wasn’t shy in letting Steven know it made him look like an inflated marshmallow. Hoping that no one would see him whilst he was out, he wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck and braced to speed run to the shop and back, hoping it would adequately cover his features.

As if on cue, to save him from future embarrassment, the little click of the front door lock made him glance up from putting on his shoes.

Nothing could've prepared him for the sight of his partner standing in the doorway. The top of your head peeped out from your scarf that matched his, nose adorned a soft pink from the winter chill. You’d popped the collar on his jacket and casually rolled up the sleeves a few times, making the look your own. In fact, he had to admit you wore his clothes better than he did.

Staring straight at him, you blinked twice, only offering a shy smile when you realised that he was looking at the jacket. "Pancakes?"

Bewildered, Steven watched as you lifted a white carrier bag out from behind you, rattling the contents inside. At that, he lost it, whether it be from the pure joy of seeing his favourite coat again or his favourite person - maybe it was a bit of both. Making his way toward you, he engulfed you in a hug, placing a gentle kiss atop of your head and easing the pancake ingredients out of your hands with a disbelieving grin.

“Funny that I was just thinking the same thing, innit?”

You chuckled in agreement, stepping back to observe him while holding his forearms. 

“By the way... what on earth are you wearing?”

[yikesitskennawrites]

Transitions- Chapter Eleven: Building A Fort With Steven

Series Masterlist

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Pairings: Steven Grant x (platonic) Reader, Marc Spector x (platonic) Reader, Jake Lockley x (platonic) Reader, Layla El-Faouly x (platonic) Reader  

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Dinner was as normal as it could have been after the news about the kid being murdered. You didn’t burn down the kitchen this time since Marc and Steven kept a close eye on you as you stirred the tomato sauce for the pasta. Marc and you mainly chatted about the ingredients for the pasta he decided to teach you how to make. During the meal, Steven talked about his day and the things he did. He was still working on that scrapbook and he needed to set a reminder on his phone to get supplies, which you helped him with after he pulled out his old man glasses. The subject of Khonshu and his new avatar was danced around and you didn’t try to bring it up since it was obvious that neither of them knew much about it besides the sight of the Moonknight suit at the crime scene.

You supposed that if you were a god's previous avatar who abused you and you were no longer their avatar, you wouldn’t want anything to do with them either. After dinner and the dishes were done, you and Steven chatted at the table for a bit. 

“Since you’re going to be here for a while, I guess I should get to know you properly. What do you like to do for fun?” Steven asks, his glasses were resting on top of his hair. You studied your fingernails as you picked dirt out from underneath them while you thought about what to say. You and the men still don’t know each-other well, not as much as you knew your best friend back in America at least. You knew that you had to trust these men to be able to feel comfortable meeting them everyday for dinner and sleeping at their place since Khonshu still scares the shit out of you; and probably will continue to until you know his intentions.

You purse your lips as you think about what you did for fun before the blip. You mainly scrolled through social media to pass the time, sometimes you watched YouTube or Netflix since it was cheaper than going out in New York. But during the summer days, winter breaks, and weekends that you had money saved up to do something, you loved going out and doing something fun. One of your favorites was Coney Island Amusement Park. You spent a few days there every summer with your parents and your best friend, you loved the Cyclone Roller Coaster despite it being a wooden structure that would wobble in certain areas. You watched a few theater plays at the Broadway Theater. Hamilton was one of your favorites despite pretending it wasn’t as good as it really was while in high-school because you didn’t want to get bullied. You and your best friend both knew the songs by heart and you secretly read some fanfiction of the show. You pretended to hate the lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree since it was just lighting a tree, but there were a few times you were caught staring at it with wide eyes by your best friend. You loved the lights, it was different from the digital screens of the advertisements in Times Square. 

You used to paint, although you determined that your paintings were terrible and any eyes that landed on your works were embarrassing and your paintings could never be shown to anyone. You still enjoyed the calmness of painting, it helped your anxiety. Maybe you should try painting again, it might help you now. You tried knitting and crocheting but you could never get it quite right and that frustrated you to the point that you dropped it and refused to pick up the knitting needles and crochet hooks again. You read some books, mainly the popular young adult books that were being made into movies such as The Hunger Games or The Fault in Our Stars just so you could compare the books to the films. The books were always better in your opinion. 

You liked to bake sweets, brownies and cookies were always your to-go for baking. You learned how to perfectly bake a cookie without burning it or overcooking by the tiniest bit. You used to sell them at school for extra cash but the teachers found out and told you couldn’t do that because of something along the lines of food regulation. Obviously, you continued to sell them but you were just more secretive about it. Sports were not for you, you weren’t the athletic type. Although, you did learn that you were competitive in an intense game of tag and you could sprint the length of a football field and launch yourself over the bleachers in order to tag your opponent. But, you never joined soccer or track despite the teams trying to recruit you after seeing you deadass sprint just to win a game.

Your favorite thing you liked to do the most was stargazing. With the air pollution and smog in New York and London, stargazing was rare. One of the things on your bucket list was to travel to the Arizona desert and stargaze. But, with the fraud you committed, going back to America would be a stupid idea. Perhaps there's somewhere in the United Kingdom that has more clear nights and is away from the city. Maybe you could drag Steven and Marc along.

“I like to stargaze,” You say after a few moments of Steven waiting for your answer. He nods, his soft curls hitting lightly brushing against his forehead as he does so.

“Do you have anything else you like to do?” He asks. You gently bite your lip as you think about your interests. There wasn’t a lot to do in New York for the people who lived in it, the city was mainly for socialites and travelers. Tourists loved visiting the city just because of how it's portrayed in films as the city of hope and dreams. They also went there so they could see the places that the Avengers fought at, the locations alone brought in millions of dollars each year just because of the hype around the heroes. It was kind of like lingering outside of Beverly Hills in California just to catch a glimpse of a celebrity or to get an autograph.

“I haven’t really had the opportunity to find out my interests.” You say, which wasn’t a complete lie. You just haven’t found something that has peaked your liking enough that you would come back to it. Besides, you were too busy with work to be able to find your interests and it's not like you can afford buying anything to try out. 

“I used to paint though,” You admit, “I was terrible at it and I hid all of my paintings in my closet because I was embarrassed of them. I think the family that moved into my house during the blip burned them. Honestly, if they didn’t, they should have.” You chuckle and Steven frowns a little.

“I don’t think your paintings were that terrible,” He reassures you, “I’ll show you terrible artwork sometime. We can paint together if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” He says, smiling at your surprised look, “Only if you want to.”

“Okay.” You say, you could feel a small smile forming on your face at the idea. It’s been awhile since you did something mundane such as painting. You’ve been too worried about Khonshu and the risk of Steven and Marc reporting you to the police to be able to focus on one task for long.

You ask, “What about you? What do you like to do?” Steven sits quietly as he looks away from you in thought. He hums and scratches his chin. 

“You already know I like to study Egyptian culture and their gods…” He trails off, “Bollocks. I like any puzzle, although I really enjoy the crosswords the most. There’s nothing wrong with the three-thousand puzzle piece, it’s just that it’s too easy to lose the pieces and I tried gluing them onto a cardboard to hang it up but it's difficult choosing what puzzles get to be shown off. Although, I must admit that it's satisfying seeing the final outcome once it's complete. Not exactly like the crossword in the daily newspaper or those crossword books, ain’t it? Besides, the newspaper is dying and everything is online now, it makes it quite difficult to do crosswords in the paper- oh, I’m rambling aren’t I? I’ll stop now.” He cuts himself off and gives you a sheepish look.

“No, no,” You rush out, giving him a reassuring smile, “I like listening to you talk.” You say honestly. “It’s nice to listen to you.”

“But, you haven’t talked as much.” Steven says, “You were quiet throughout dinner and you don’t really speak much…” He trails off and shifts his eyes to the fish tank. “Even Marc agrees.” He adds after a few seconds.

“I just-” You start and then stop. You swallow as you gather your thoughts to form into a coherent sentence, “I guess, I don’t think I have anything interesting to add. I’m a boring person, really.” You shoot him a grin and he frowns at you talking down on yourself.

“You shouldn’t say that about yourself.” He scolds you, “Anything you say is important because it makes up who you are.” You shift in your seat as you listen to him talk, “I-what is it Marc?” He turns his attention back to the fishtank and presses his lips together. “Fine.” He states, you watch the shift between them quietly as Marc sits up a little straighter. 

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” You ask before he gets the chance to mother-hen you like Steven did moments ago. 

“I like watching the Chicago Cubs play baseball,” Marc says. You hum as you wait for him to pick up where Steven left off, but he instead surprises you by asking, “What music do you listen to?”

“Taylor Swift.” You immediately answer. 

“You’re so sure of your favorite music but not of your hobbies.”

“I would sell my soul to go to one of her concerts.” You say in seriousness and Marc laughs. “I would do anything to listen to her live music. The last album she made was Reputation back in 2017 before she got blipped and I bet she has some bopping music stuffed in a drawer somewhere that she’s working on now.”

“You sound like a huge fan,” Marc says, and you nod before asking him about his music choices. “Eh. AC/DC, Jon Bovi, Tom Petty, Nickelback, and Guns and Roses are some of the bands I like.” 

“You should make me a playlist,” You say, “If Steven can hear me he can add the music he likes to it too.” 

Marc chuckles, “Steven and I have different tastes, he doesn’t care for rock that much. He’s more of an alternative or indie fan.” He pauses, “Also, he’s telling me to tell you that he doesn’t know technology that well, but he’ll try.” 

“Thanks,” You say. You cross your arms over your stomach and lean back in the wooden chair. 

“I should tell you before I forget that I’m meeting up with Layla for dinner tomorrow so we’re not going to eat together, alright?” Marc says, you blink at him. You’re not going to lie, that was a little surprising to hear. 

“You’re eating dinner with your ex-wife?” You ask, looking with curious eyes towards him, “The one you send divorce papers to? You’re going on a date?”

“It’s not a date,” Marc groans, and rubs his palms off on his shorts, “We’re just two friends meeting up for dinner to chat. I haven’t seen her since Cairo and we have a few things to talk about.”

“You’re leaving me alone after you clearly stated that Khonshus new avatar is out and whoever it is, is killing teenagers and you’re obviously somewhat stressed about that.”

“I am not-”

“Bullshit.” You cut him off, “You wouldn’t let me be by myself in my own apartment- which I am glad about by the way, don’t give me that look, Spector,” You pause and glare at him momentarily before continuing, “and you called me a dozen times, your voicemails sounded panicky and you were begging me to answer the damn phone. You and Steven are stressed about this new avatar and whatever Khonshu has up his sleeves; and you just don’t want to admit it.” 

“So, you don’t want me to meet up with Layla tomorrow?”

“No,” You breathe out and shake your head, “I do.” You wanted him to have a life and figure out where he and Layla stood even though you thought it was a little odd that an ex-husband and ex-wife were meeting up for dinner. Maybe they ended on good terms, who knows, it’s not your business and he’ll eventually cave anyway and tell you, it’s just a matter of time. Besides, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you needed to get used to being in your apartment or the laundry room alone. 

You couldn’t rely on the men forever, especially since you were going to be eighteen soon and that meant you would be considered an adult rather than a teenager. You were hell of a lot more hesitant now to be on your own but you couldn’t let the god and his puppet know how terrified you were to be. You couldn’t let them win.

“I want you to admit that you’re scared and that it’s okay to be.” You say. Marc stares at you as the sentence leaves your mouth. Maybe getting the men to admit that they're terrified as much as you were this would make this easier for you. Logically, it should be the opposite if two grown ass men were terrified of a god and his avatar; but if Marc admits that it's okay to be scared because he’s scared, maybe that would make it easier to accept. You can’t just put your life on hold because an avatar killed a teenager and a god is purposely scaring you and stalking you.  You and Marc make eye contact for a few seconds before you watch the switch happen between Marc and Steven. You groaned in frustration and rolled your eyes towards the ceiling.

“It’s bandages,” Steven says, "The bloody pigeon doesn’t have sleeves, he has dirty bandages wrapped around his body.” You give Steven a look and the smile on his face falls at your expression, “Did Marc say something?” 

“No, it’s what he didn’t say.” You state, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Steven sighs and leans forward in his chair and places a hand on your knee. 

“Marc doesn’t know how to express his feelings well,” Steven starts and you huff, “But, I speak for us both...here. We’re scared, we don’t know what's going to happen and what the pigeon is planning.” You press your lips together as Steven rubs his thumb across your knee. “Seeing Khonshu for the first time was horrifying, I thought I was going mad,” He admits, “I thought I was going to be thrown into the loony bin until Marc cleared some stuff up for me. So, what I’m trying to say is, your terror is valid and ours is too.” You felt a bit more satisfied at hearing Steven say that than try to cover it up and distract you with something else. 

“Okay,” you say, “Thanks.” 

“It’s not a problem, mate.” He answers and silence settles between the two of you. “Let’s do something that would help us relax, yeah?” Steven smiles, “Something to wind down from the day, unless you want to go to bed now?” You purse your lips in thought. You weren’t ready to lie in bed and be alone with your thoughts as Steven waits for you to fall asleep before sneaking off to the couch. You didn’t want to make yourself more worried than you already are about the current situation. 

“What do you have in mind?” You ask and Steven grins at you. 

“You want to play a board game or something? I think I have Scrabble lying around somewhere…” He trails off as his eyes scan the crowded bookshelves. Sitting down and playing a board game sounded fun but you were too anxious to sit still for a long time. You need to move around and get rid of all this energy, tire yourself out enough that you’ll fall asleep before Steven heads to the couch.

“Do you have a Wii?” You ask, maybe you could play Wii Sports. 

“Wii?” Steven asks, his brows scrunched together at the question. You shake your head to dismiss it. You supposed that if he didn’t know how to make a playlist that he wouldn’t have any video game consoles.

“Do you have anything physical we could do, you know, like not just sitting?” You ask, Steven hums and looks around the room. 

“We could clean the flat…” He says, a frown tugged on his lips as he took in the organized mess. 

“Cleaning isn’t very fun,” You state as you turn in your chair to find something interesting to do. With the messy shelves lined with books and loose sheets of paper, it was clear that Steven and Marc didn’t own any board games- save for Scrabble which could be a single player game; but even as you scanned the shelves, you were unable to find the game. The corners of your lips tilted downwards, you couldn’t find any games. Not even card games like Uno or Blackjack, Marc and Steven were two grown men who didn’t even own games to play with other people; and if they did actually have them, they obviously put it somewhere for uneasy access. Did they not have any friends to play with? 

You shifted your eyes away from the shelves and glanced at Steven. He wasn’t looking in your direction, he was frowning at the mess that had formed over the last year that he lived here. Now that you were thinking about it, Marc and Steven only ever mentioned Layla, not another single other person in their lives; and even then, they don’t own any games to play with her, you guess that was reasonable because Layla and them were divorced so playing games with your ex-wife would be awkward. Unless it ended on good terms, which it kind of had to if Marc and Layla are meeting up for dinner, which is totally not a date. 

You trailed your eyes away from Steven and towards the television which showed the two of you reflection. Watching a film didn’t sound like the best thing to do, you wanted to move around, you should convince Steven or Marc to buy a Wii. They’re only fifty dollars at the cheapest now since the console is over ten years old. That’s like, forty-one pounds, honestly, not a bad deal. You move your eyes to the door and shake your head at the thought of walking. Going on an evening stroll would have been a decent idea if it wasn’t for the avatar so that was crossed out.

You came to the conclusion that there was nothing to do to calm your nerves. You breathed a sigh and shifted in your chair. Steven shot you a curious look and waited for you to speak. 

“There’s nothing to do,” You say, leaning forward and placing your elbow on the table to rest your chin on your palm. 

“There's plenty to do,” Steven says and gestures to the mess that has begun to consume his life, “we could clean.” You groan at the suggestion. 

“That's not very banging of you.” You say. 

He gives you a confused look, “What?”

“Banging. Y’know, like cool or fun or exciting.” You say, he slowly nods before bringing his attention back to the pile of books stacked on the floor and leaflets of papers scattered around his apartment. You could tell by his expression that it was going to bother him until something else distracted him or he decided to clean the mess. You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about what you could do to pass the time. One of the many things you did on rainy days when you were younger was building a fort; and at the moment that sounds pretty fun and relaxing. Although, you doubt Steven nor Marc would help you build it or allow you to move their furniture around. 

“What are you thinking about?” Steven asks, you look at him, “You got this look on your face that kind of looks sad.”

“I was just..” You start and trail off. “It’s going to sound stupid and childish, but I was thinking that we could build a fort. I miss building forts and hanging out in them.” You admit and watch as Steven slowly nods and rolls his eyes at the fish tank.

“Why don’t we build a fort right now?” Steven says. You blink in surprise. “C'mon, table thief, let's build ourselves a fort, yeah?” You ignore his nickname for you.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, we can use the couch and the table as stands to help prop up the covers.” He pushes himself out of his chair and begins to walk towards the couch, “Come help me push the couch.” You stand up and walk to the opposite end of the sofa. You and Steven grip your fingers underneath the edge of the furniture and push it closer to Gus the Second tank. 

“I’ll get some chairs.” You say before you walk back to the dining table and grab yours and Stevens seat and head back to the couch. 

“I’m thinking that we could use the tank for the light since I don’t have any of those string lights,” Steven says. 

“And Marc would be able to join us,” You add and Steven rolls his eyes. 

“The git is calling us children for doing this,” Steven groans and directs towards the reflective surface of the fish tank, “bloody fun you are.” 

“He’s just missing out.” You shrug, “He can’t come into our fort if he keeps bullying us and doesn’t put any effort into it.” 

“You hear that, Marc?” Steven says, a few moments pass before he directs towards you, “he says he doesn’t care.”

“Not invited.” You hum, “I’m going to take the bedding off of the bed and we can use that as the cover.” You walk to the bed you’ve been sleeping in for the past couple of weeks and take the bedding off. It smelled like you and the men's laundry detergent. You wanted to frown at the scent since it made you feel a bit guilty at taking their bed, but the smell kind of comforted you. 

“Here,” You say and place it on the couch. “We need something to help hold down the edges.” You scan the flat and Steven points to his thick Egyptology books. 

“We can balance them on the corners of Gus' tank, we just have to be careful standing underneath the covers.” He says, you smile at the suggestion and the two of you begin collecting heavy books and placing them by the couch. Once you grab as many books as you thought you needed, you grab the comforter off of the couch and begin looking for one end of the blanket. You hand the edge to Steven and the two of you grab the edges with your hands.

“I’m going to place my end on the fish tank and-” 

“Well, what about the couch?” You cut him off, “Don’t you think it's too short for my end? Maybe if we turn the couch outwards so the cushions are facing outside of the couch-”

“I was getting there,” Steven smiles and temporarily drops his end of the comforter before walking to one end of the couch. You mirror his actions and the two of you turn the couch outwards so the back is facing the inside of the soon-to-be fort. You pick up the Egyptology books and hand them to Steven who takes them and places them on the corner of the tank before doing the same to the other corner. You hold up your end of the blanket and drape the remaining over the couch before carefully placing Stevens books on either end to hold down the weight. 

“If we get more chairs from the table, we could place them on the outside and they could kind of be our walls.”

“Brilliant idea,” Steven says while beaming at you. You carry back the two remaining chairs from the table and place them opposite from the other two you carried over earlier. You turned the chairs outwards so the backs were facing into the fort and Steven tossed you your end of the sheet. Carefully, the two of you draped the sheet over the chairs, the fort was done being built, now all you had to do was fill it with comfort items. 

“I’m going to grab your pillows and if you have extra blankets somewhere, can you get them?” You ask as you walk backwards towards his bed. He nods, curls bouncing lightly on his forehead as he does so and you shoot him a grin before giving your complete attention to the task at hand. Grabbing the four pillows off of his mattress, you return to the fort and carefully slide each of the cushions into the fort between the fish tank and the chairs. You enter the fort the same way, taking your time to not knock over the blankets. For a moment, the brightness from Gus tank made it hard to see but not soon after your eyes adjusted to the light. You separate the pillows into two equal sections, Steven gets two pillows and you get two pillows. 

Not a few minutes later, Steven was returning with the extra blankets. Carefully, he placed the blankets into the fort before sliding in himself. Together, the two of you worked together at making the fort as comfortable as possible as it was sitting in a slightly cramped space on a wooden floor. As soon as it was complete, you and Steven shared a grin and a high-five. 

“Great job, Steven.” You say. You turned your face towards the tank and watched Gus swim around for a few moments as Steven laid down on his back.

“It was not a problem,” a certain someone says in an American accent. You whip your head towards him. Marc grinned at you as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Let Steven do all the work so you could enjoy the fort?” You ask and he hums, “I thought you were saying that building forts was childish and bullying us for it. I guess you had to stoop down to our level for you to be able to join us.” He reaches over to his side of the fort and grabs a small keychain flashlight before handing it to you. You ask, “What is this?” 

“Steven thought you would like it. He got it from the museum when he worked there.” Marc simply says with a small shrug. You stared at the silver flashlight with one black button. You press the button and watch as it projects seven small five point stars. 

“Woah,” You say, “that's so cool. Thank you.”  You remove your finger from the button and the light turns off. “But this still isn’t an apology for bullying us.” 

“You want me to leave?” 

“No,” you say. You stare at him and wait for the simple five lettered word to leave his mouth. All he has to say is ‘sorry” and he would probably be forgiven. You might just drag it out longer just to see if he’ll apologize extra. 

“I could read one of Stevens' history books for you.” Marc says, surprising you quite a bit.

“Now?”

“Or later,” Marc says, you nod slowly. This was probably the closest thing you were going to get as an apology from Marc. “We should buy you some Dr. Seuss books or something.” 

“Okay, but his books smack hard.” You say and Marc gives you a small smile.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You confirm and Marc lets out a small laugh causing you to smile. “Have you ever read Green Eggs and Ham?” 

“No,” Marc shakes his head.

“Not even as a kid?” You ask, “Not even at school or your parents reading bedtime stories to you?” Marc shakes his head again, his eyes turning sad and distant, “Wow. Well, that book is good- one of the greatest honestly. I’ll read the Dr. Seuss books to you so you could make up for some of your sad childhood.” 

“Yeah?” He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You stare at him and press your lips together, did you say something that caused him to be sad? 

“Yeah,” You breathe out. “Are you good, man?”

“Yeah,” He nods and clears his throat, “Tell me something about space.”

“Space?” 

“Yeah, you’re a nerd for it. So, you must have some pretty cool knowledge about it.”

“Okay well,” You start and then pause. He wanted you to get distracted from him and his reaction towards whatever you said. What were you talking about? Dr. Seuss and his lack of childhood bedtime stories. Maybe he didn’t have a good childhood. You should let it go, you wouldn’t want anyone pressing you for that information if the tables were turned. 

“Space is so vast that we only really explored our universe. We’re so tiny compared to the million-year-old planets, Y’know? We’re just a blink in time, here for one moment and gone for the next.” You say, occasionally turning on the projector flashlight and pointing it at the bedding above you. “Turtles can live over a hundred years old and some humans live over a hundred; but compared to the thousands-of-year-olds meteors that make up our constellations, that’s absolutely nothing. I mean, way to go for our bodies that have running organs compared to molten rock and lava. It's an achievement to live past eighty. Humans and turtles, and any living creature really is extraordinary.” You didn’t talk about space completely, but the words that you said distracted Marc and that was your own secret achievement. 

“Steven and Khonshu turned back the night sky to get coordinates,” Marc says. You look at him with wide eyes. 

“I saw that on Tiktok, almost every news outlet and person was talking about it.” You say, “That must have been cool to see in person.” He hums in reply and silence settles between you. 

“I feel bad that you guys are sleeping on the couch,” You suddenly say. He turns his head towards you. “I know that you guys are trying to make sure that I’m comfortable and everything- which is really sweet of you guys. But, I’ve been taking your bed from you for like fourteen days and I feel terrible about it. I can take the couch or go back to my apartment even though I am terrified of everything that's happening; but it's not like I can avoid it, right? Weird shit happens almost every day in New York so this could be nothing more than Khonshu being a dick and just scaring me for fun.” 

Marc cut off your rambling, “Listen, kid. If you want to go back to your apartment and go back to just dinners and evening talk, that's fine. You’re right that Khonshu could just be a dick like we told you; and we don’t know what he has planned, we could only give you the advice to say no if he asks you to be his avatar. Just know that our door is open to you.” 

“Is it stupid to go back to my apartment tonight after the teen was killed?” You ask quietly. You didn’t want to, you wanted to stay here another night just to prolong being alone but, you had to go back sometime and sleep on your own couch. If Marc allows you to spend another night here, you will but you don’t want him to think that you’re expecting to. Well, now that you thought about it, Marc probably does since you changed into your pajamas before coming over. 

“I don’t think he’s targeting you, because if he wanted you dead you already would be.” Marc says. He had a grimace on his face as he spoke. At least he was honest about it, you thought. 

“You don’t think he’s like winding up his punch before throwing it?” You ask and Marc gives you a look, “Like, everything so far is being slowly built up before he strikes. You don’t think he’s making us anxious and paranoid before he kills me or you?”

“I…” Marc breathes out, “I don’t know, but if he wanted us dead we would be.” He repeats, “Khonshu isn’t the type of god to play with his victims before killing them.” You purse your lips. You don’t know about that, Khonshu was in your apartment the first week you met the men and he had to be in the laundry room despite you being unable to see his staff you sure as hell felt his presence. 

You opened your mouth to press more about the subject but Marc cuts you off, “Don’t you have work tomorrow?” You close your mouth and nod slowly, “Okay, well it’s getting late and you don’t want to be grumpy in the morning, do you?”

“I wouldn’t be grumpy.” You deny and Marc smiles at you. “I stayed up until like two in the morning before and woke up at six am.”

“When was that?”

“Back when I was fifteen and living in New York.” You state, “I was reading and I couldn’t put down the story so I stayed up until I finished it; and then I had school and I didn’t regret a single bit of it.” You push yourself up and carefully slide back out before removing the stack of books on the corner of the tank and watching it as the blanket droops to the other side. Marc stands up and removes the other stack of books on the fish tank as you place your own on the floor. 

“Steven didn’t get to enjoy the fort.” You state. Marc wads up the comforter as glances at the reflection on the tank. 

“He says he did,” Marc shrugs. But he barely got to spend time with you in it? “He says that he liked building it and watching us bond.” Marc finishes with his back turned towards you. You stare at his shoulder blades as he walks to the bed. You guess that was true, usually you and Steven spend more time together than you and Marc, now that you were thinking about it. So, it must be nice for Steven to see you and Marc communicating and neither of you shoving the other out, especially him shoving you away. 

“Are you ready for bed?” Marc asks and you shake your head. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” You say and you walk to the bathroom and shut the door behind you. It looked like your own, small and cramped. A shower and bath combined was shoved into the far corner and the toilet sat next to it. On the opposite side was the sink which was slightly cleaner than the table-top out in the dining room. It had the men's toothbrush and your own resting next to theirs in the toothbrush holder. You grab your own and borrow the men's toothpaste before running it underneath the faucet and brushing your teeth. 

The first few days you spent the night here, you packed your toothbrush and toothpaste. Around the sixth or seventh day you stayed, Steven told you to place your toothbrush into the holder on the counter so you wouldn’t have to keep carrying it over. You were embarrassed of that, and quite frankly you still are. Spitting into the sink and rising off your toothbrush, you were done with your nightly routine. After using the toilet and washing your hands, you left the bathroom and walked over to the newly made bed. Steven sat against the headboard in his own plaid pajama bottoms and white t-shirt with a book on his lap. You crawled onto the bed and laid your head against the pillows as Steven smiles down at you. You guess that Marc wasn’t going to read to you tonight like he said he might. 

“Let’s pick off where we last left off, that alright, dove?” Steven says, his reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he glances down at you. 

“Steven?” You say, you felt nervous asking him, but you didn’t want the men to spend another night on the couch. He turns his attention to you, brown eyes glittering with the nightstand lights. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you…do you mind if you stay here?” 

“I always stay here.” He says, his eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiles. 

“No, like…stay here all night.” You say, “I just feel bad that you guys are sleeping on the couch and I can see that your body hurts when you wake.” His lips pursed and you could see the thoughts that he was thinking just by his expression alone. He was going to tell you that he was happy that you cared and he would have to decline your plea because he was quite fine on the couch. You knew what card you had to play next to ensure that they would get a good night's sleep for the first time in two weeks, so you say, “Also, I would feel a lot more comfortable having you closer to me because of…well, y’know.” 

“Dove, we told you that there’s nothing to worry about.”

“But, you also told me that you don’t know for sure, so what is it, Steven?” You say, and he nods slowly. 

You wonder if Marc was telling him what to say or to decline your plea, but before you could think further on that he admits, “I think I would feel better if I was closer to you too.” You internally pump your fists into the air in victory. You briefly revisited the concept that Steven was just as nervous as you were about the murder that happened today and that his acceptance for your question proves that he needs reassurance too. He flips open the book to the chapter he bookmarked last night. It was the chapter on the God Ra, the sun god. You listened to Stevens' quiet voice as he spoke and slowly relaxed into the routine the two of you have been in for the past two weeks. 

You closed your eyes and allowed your breathing to slow. You forced all thoughts of the reflection of the day to be shoved aside. You’ll deal with them tomorrow, you decided, tonight you want to sleep as peacefully as possible. You were halfway asleep as you felt the bed dip and saw the flicker of the light turning off behind your eyelids. You felt Steven place his hand on your arm, you didn’t pull away, you were too tired to care; and honestly, it was nice. Not soon after, sleep took you.

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt the dip in the bed rise. You breathed in a sharp breath as you stirred, you rolled over onto your back and hugged the sheet to your chest. You closed your eyes with the intention of going back to sleep but the noise of socks shuffling on the wooden floor and the soft footsteps on the floorboards made you peek at the men to see what they were doing. With the little moonlight shining through the curtains and Gus the Second tank, you could see Marc or Steven walking quietly through their apartment.

You didn’t think much of it, you just thought that they were getting a glass of water or going to the bathroom, so you closed your eyes to go back to bed. You were on the edge of sleep when you heard the door unbolt and open before it shut and you heard it lock again. In your tired state, you didn’t think about why Marc or Steven left, but rather let yourself fall back into a dreamless sleep.

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