#moon boys fic

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 12

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Summary: You and your husband adjust to life with Jake in the mix and Marc gone quiet.

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader, Marc Spector x gn!reader. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3k

Content: fluff, some angst, spicy times (more under the cut)

Warnings: cursing, references to Marc's trama/past, food prep and talk about food (I know this can be triggering for some) sex implied, foreplay, handjob, but language is not overly explicit and is gn. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Steven arrived home from work, having narrowly escaped a London downpour. Setting his bag down right inside the door, he shed his damp jacket and kicked off his shoes, thinking Marc might pipe up and scold him at any moment.

Marc was the neat one. Like military neat. Like, don't leave a mess or mom will make you regret it, neat. Like erase your existence from your alter...from the authorities...from the world, neat.

Steven was the messy one. Scatterbrained, he'd been called by a boss or two. It wasn't so much scatterbrained as it was a bit of unaware brain sharing.

But he hadn't shared much of anything with Marc lately. Not since Khonshu had stripped him of his armor mid-fight and almost gotten him killed. That was two weeks ago.

Padding over to his fish tank, Steven placed his hands on his knees, bending forward to take a look at his tiny little school. There were four fishies now, which almost seemed appropriate. One for Steven, Marc, you and now Jake.

Narrowing his eyes, Steven scrutinized the colorful little creatures before reaching for some fish food.

"All right then, time to eat," he chimed. Dumping a few flakes into the water, he smiled at their eager nibbles, until his eyes caught his own reflection.

"You there?" He asked, not actually addressing anyone, but definitely thinking of Marc. "No? ...didn't think so."

With a sigh, Steven sauntered to the kitchen to start the kettle. The flat was dark - the thunderstorm outside made sure of it, and he worried, for a moment, about you trudging home in these conditions.

"Should be alright," he mused to himself, the way he was prone to do. "Not due home for a couple hours yet."

He stopped short when he saw a note on the kitchen counter. It was not unlike the several notes you had left for Jake, on the bedside table. Same envelope at least.

"What's this, then?" he mused, picking it up.

The letters, displayed in your handwriting, spelled 'Marc'.

"Hm. Left you a note. Best come read it," Steven tried to tell his alter. Hearing nothing, he chewed on his lip for a moment before turning the envelope over in his hand.

The contents really did belong to Marc, but Steven felt that maybe had had the best chance of actually communicating with him. So he opened the letter and began to read aloud.

"Hope you don't mind, but I'm going to be reading this," Steven said to no one, because apparently no one was listening. "If you're not going to look at it, you should at least hear it."

'Dear Marc, I can't remember the last time we've gone so long without seeing one another, or at least speaking. Even on your longest missions, it never felt like this. If I could go back to the last time I saw you huddled on the kitchen floor, I would have never let you out of my arms. I would have never ranted about what Jake should do, or how much I hate Khonshu. I would've just held on and told you the truth over and over - that you're everything. That it didn't matter to me if you wore the suit again without telling me because I trust you, and because you can make your own decisions. I've always trusted your judgment. You are the real Moon Knight and you had every right to put on the suit if you felt like you wanted or needed to. I would have told you I support you 100%, that you're needed, that you're loved - that my anger and my bright ideas about how we should march right up to Khonshu and punch his bony beak didn't matter, not when you were feeling so shut out, so displaced, so thrown backwards in time, made to feel any less than. You are not less than Steven. You are not less than Jake. Or me. And you sure as hell are not less than an ancient deity who needs a modern day human body to roam the streets of London. It is he who needs you. And I need you. I need you, Marc. I need to see you again so badly, I can't even breathe sometimes. Not at night, after Steven falls asleep, not in the shower sometimes, or at work, when someone asks after you. I need you so much. Please, this isn't about making you feel guilty. You're my husband. You are the love of my life. I know you're resting now. I know you're taking the time you need. Steven is taking good care of you. But when you're ready, please, please come back to me. I love you so much.'

Running a hand over his chin, Steven folded the letter and put it back where he found it. Peering at his reflection in the microwave, Steven waited...hoping...

But it was quiet.

The next night, you made it home first. Steven had spoiled you rotten the previous, stormy evening. He claimed he was treating you to some warm soup and a hot bath because you were drenched when you arrived home.

But you knew it was because he read your letter and wanted to cheer you up. In fact, you believed that Steven missed Marc too. They didn't always co-front - you typically were only with one of them at a time, but they did talk all the time, and what you had sworn to Marc one afternoon on the rooftop was true: he was Steven's best friend in all the world.

So, a comforting bath and cuddles in bed made you both feel worlds better.

Tonight you wanted to show Steven a little love right back. It was really too bad that you found yourself elbow deep in making vegan fajitas when you heard the front door, because you desperately wanted a big hug.

"I'm in here, babe!" You called, dripping your way over to the sink to wash up.

Steven would have normally spouted off a greeting, two terms of endearment and one fun fact by the time he reached you, but as you turned to see him leaning against the door frame, you only heard the sound of your name...in an American accent.

Your heart rate tripled - your face flamed hot...then you saw your husband's dark curls were covered by a flat cap.

Holy shit. "Jake?"

"Hola," he winked, folding his arms over his chest. Noticing your apparent distress - and automatically assuming he was the cause, the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Mi amor?" He questioned, his eyes going wide like a child getting in trouble.

"Jake!" You breathed, rushing up to throw your arms around him.

His body sagged in relief, melting into yours until he found the strength to wrap his bigger, stronger arms around your frame.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you gasped, gripping him desperately. "You're here, I can't believe it."

Surprised but thrilled at how relieved and happy you seemed, Jake nuzzled the spot right above your ear, running his hands up and down your back soothingly.

"I hope it's all right," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

Easing back, you gazed up into his deep brown eyes. "What do you mean? Of course it's all right."

Chewing on his lip worriedly, he shrugged one shoulder adorably, still holding on to you. "It's not a bad time, is it? You're not...supposed to be with Steven? Or anyone?"

You melted. "Baby, it's your body. If you're here, you're here. You don't need my permission." Gently caressing his cheek, you shook your head in wonder. "I just - I don't think I've ever seen you before midnight."

Glancing down at his outfit, you realized you didn't recognize his clothing as Steven or Marc's. Your heart swelled, seeing this new piece of him - a faded, denim jacket over a striped t-shirt.

"And I've never seen you wear anything except Steven's PJ's or your driving uniform," you added, brushing your hand over his.

"Or nothing at all," he cheekily added, biting his lip, waiting for your reaction.

You grinned like a fool, giggling as he swooped you up into a tender kiss. He sampled your lips one at a time, sucking gently, taunting you - until you licked hotly into his mouth, sinking your fingers into his curls. This knocked the cap off his head, which made him growl in response.

Two strong hands dragged your thighs around his waist and in a few long strides, he planted you on the countertop with an 'umph!'

"Sorry," he murmured, his forehead touching yours affectionately as he squeezed your hips, settling right between your spread thighs.

"Was that an offer?" you whispered, referring to him wearing nothing at all. Peppering his smiling lips with little kisses and driving him absolutely crazy, you added, "Is that why you're here?"

Easing back slowly, he swallowed. "I just wanted to see you," he earnestly admitted, a little uncertainty creasing his forehead. "I thought...maybe we could have dinner together. Is that okay?"

He was pretty new to this whole...you thing. Being married...sort of. Making an effort to...be with you. And not just sleep beside you. So he wasn't entirely sure if he was barging in to a special evening with Steven. He also wondered if you were hoping he was Marc. Actually, he was pretty certain that the surprise on your face when he first called your name was you mistaking him for Marc, for just a second.

"Come here," you softly cooed, pulling on his jacket to drag his mouth back to yours. Brushing your lips over his, you used your legs to urge his body flush against your center. "Yes, we can have dinner together..." which reminded you - you were mid-fajita prep when Jake arrived.

Tapping him cutely on the nose, you kissed his mouth one more time. "To be continued."

As you carried on with food prep, a different energy sizzled in the kitchen with Jake, most notably because he was a different person. Marc cooked with you plenty of times. In fact, he probably cooked more often than anyone and he was pretty good at it.

Cooking with Marc was precise, detailed - he knew what he wanted to do and you willingly played a supporting role. The two of you moved with practiced synchrony, like a well-rehearsed dance.

With Steven, it was all about experimentation. As a vegan, Steven was used to substituting ingredients and making things up on the fly. He also left a huge, hilarious mess behind, and typically ended up wearing a portion of his recipe.

For this reason, you had bought Steven an apron that said, 'Team Herbivore' which made Marc roll his eyes every time he saw it. Not because of the slogan but because it had three cute little veggies with smiling faces on it.

With Jake, there was no precise exchange of places, nor an experimental mess. Jake moved right with you from behind, loosely caging you in, picking up a spoon you would set down, stirring while you reached for a knife. You chopped and he added spices. He didn't even ask.

Once your hand was knife free and scraping veggies into the skillet, he was nuzzling into your neck and humming.

You lost your concentration a few times because he was just so close.

"This okay?" He would ask periodically, slipping his hand around your waist to sway with you.

"Where did you learn to cook?" You giggled, melting at the sound of his apparent singing voice?

He paused, going a little stiff.

Hoping you hadn't hit a nerve, you turned around slowly to find him smiling wistfully. "I used to watch my mom."

Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out what to say. Marc had never mentioned cooking with his mom, or her really cooking much at all. He had mentioned going to bed hungry though.

"I know...how she was," Jake softly interjected into your buzzing thoughts. "Especially with Marc." His gaze dropped as he eased back a step. "But sometimes, she would sing in Spanish. And cook. Sometimes I helped."

Reaching for his hand, you gently squeezed. "I didn't know you guys spoke Spanish until we met," you admitted, trying your best to connect a little more with Jake. "That sounds like a wonderful memory."

"One of the few," he sighed. Almost shyly meeting your eyes, he smiled warmly. "I've never told anyone that - or anything...about her."

Using your hold on his hand to pull him closer, you slid one arm around his waist. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed back, nodding over your shoulder toward the sizzling skillet. "Better stir, mi vida."

Jake's seasonings were totally on point and dinner was delicious. The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the living room to relax. You noticed Jake sat a little awkwardly on the sofa - in total contrast to the smooth, panther like movements you were accustomed to, late at night, in your bedroom.

"Jake, you okay?" You asked him, grabbing your current reading material and settling down beside him.

He nodded unconvincingly. This was wildly foreign to him. Jake only did a few things in this world: protect, kill when he had to, serve Khonshu, sleep and fuck. He didn't even eat that often - his alters usually saw to most of the body's physical care.

"What...what do you do? At night? What should I do?" He adorably asked.

You almost laughed, it was so cute, but you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Well...Marc and I play card games or do puzzles. We watch baseball games or old action movies - "

"You like baseball?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I do," you confirmed with a smile. "The time change is a little weird from here to Chicago or New York, but we watch some afternoon games, or we watch older games."

He nodded, absorbing the information as you went on.

"Steven and I read together, or he reads to me. We like documentaries too. Sometimes I help him study for school." You chuckled, wondering if this all sounded boring to such a night owl like Jake. "Sometimes we have word search races - like, to see who can finish the fastest."

"I do crosswords in my car sometimes," Jake shrugged, as if he totally understood the appeal. "Do you like crosswords?"

"Mm-hmm," you grinned.

It was on. The two of you found a crossword website online and printed out two copies of the same puzzle. Turning on your phone's stopwatch, the race was on.

Jake kicked your ass.

"Let's go again," he chimed, finding another crossword on the laptop. "Loser has to take of their clothes."

You gasped, pretending to be offended. "Mr. Lockley," you playfully scolded.

Hearing you call him Mister anything had him shutting the laptop and scooping you up in his arms, almost racing to the bedroom. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I surrender, I'll take off my clothes."

You howled with laughter as he deposited you on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Next came his socks - then he went for his belt. Shit, he wasn't kidding.

Crawling backwards on the bed, you settled back to enjoy the show, propped up on a pile of pillows.

Jake had peeled off his jacket while you were cooking, so once his pants were loose, he tugged off his t-shirt. You licked your lips at the way his abdomen flexed at the motion, and almost mewled at the way the shirt's collar mussed his curls. Then he paused, checking for a reaction before removing his pants.

"Don't let me stop you...Mr. Lockley," you teased, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The corner of his mouth curled as he pushed his pants and boxers all the way down. Leaning forward to kick them off his feet, a loose curl fell across his forehead.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him naked and ready for you. Climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees, he hovered over you, reveling in the way your eyes devoured him.

"Your turn," he purred, teasing you with a nibble to your lips.

Running your hands all over his smooth skin, you felt between his legs, teasing his length with your fingertips.

Hissing in pleasure, he more than willingly allowed you to have your way, licking wickedly into your mouth while grinding into your palm.

"Do you really read and study all the time, mi vida?" He groaned out, rolling his hips in time with your strokes. "Or is this more your idea of fun?"

"Definitely this," you breathed against his mouth. "A fucking lot of this."

Spending the evening with Jake was a balm to your tender heart. You had seen him since the night Khonshu healed him - since your first night together - but only late at night, for a quick conversation, or for a repeat performance.

So spending an entire, domestic evening with him, ending up between the sheets for hours, before falling asleep draped across his naked body - you were in heaven. Maybe Jake really was going to ease into your life - actually be in a relationship with you.

Your heart swelled with love for your husband - for all the lovely, wonderful parts of the system he was. You would have to grab some extra ingredients from the store and plan another vegan fajita night for Steven, since Jake enjoyed the first batch. Not that Steven minded, angel that he was.

Which only left Marc.

Even with your heart so full and alive, there was still a gaping hole. As always, you tried not to put the other two in the middle of any situation, or treat them like messengers to try to get to Marc. But they were more than ready with updates.

Steven had confessed to reading the letter, and trying to talk out loud to Marc several times a day. Jake said the same, finally asking you if maybe it was his fault that Marc was so absent - so silent.

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

next->

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dividers by saradika

[soulsforsales]

You take care of the Moon boys when they are sick <3

Warning/triggers: mild angst, fluff, fluff, fluff (just a lot of it <3), no use of Y/N, google translated Spanish

A/N: I had so much fun writing this ;)

Steven

You wake up to the sound of Steven coughing. He's in the kitchen making coffee for the both of you, as always. You walk up to him, hugging him from behind and trailing kisses down his neck.

'Good morning, hon,' you whisper, 'Good morning, love.' Steven feels hot, well, he is hot (duh) but right now he feels heated up.

Your brows furrow as you move beside him, 'Are you okay?' You ask but Steven abruptly pulls away from you and sneezes, covering his face with his elbow. 'Do you have a fever?' You ask again, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. 'No, I am fine,' he says shaking his big hands that were partly covered by the long sleeves of his t-shirt in front of his face. He coughs again.

'No you are not.' You say, taking the coffee cups from his hands. 'Love, you don't - 'Steven.' You don't give him the chance to finish, 'get in bed. You should rest, no work for you today.'

'I'll bring you coffee and cookies and meds you are sick, you need rest.' You tell him, already working on the coffee. 'Alright...' Steven says before kissing you on the cheek and making his way to the bed.

You walk up to Steven with a tray of coffee, the cookies he liked the best, and his meds. He sits up in bed, 'Love, you didn't have to -' 'Of course, I had to,' you say, sitting next to him in bed.

You two spend the rest of the day cuddled up in bed, binge-watching your favorite TV shows and movies.

Your head is placed on Steven's shoulder, kissing his neck and jaw. Steven was touch starved, you knew it and you'd made it your mission to give him all the touch he'd ever missed having.

'Don't you have work, darling?' Steven asks. You grin, 'I'm calling in sick,' you tell him as your lips meet his. Steven looks into your eyes, 'if you keep going on, you will have to call in sick,' he says. You kiss him anyway. 'That doesn't sound so bad to me,' you whisper, his nose brushing against yours.

By the evening, Steven has taken a good five hours of sleep while you completed some work. He feels much better when he wakes up and walks up to you. 'Let's get out of here,' he says, placing his chin on your head. You turn to him, taking your glasses off, 'you sure? Do you feel better?' You ask. Steven smiles at you, 'tons. Thanks to you,' he says, kissing your head.

You both grab your jackets and walk out of the apartment. You spend your time strolling in a park, eating burritos, and drinking hot chocolate.

It's a nice day but being with Steven makes it perfect. Everything feels perfect when you are with him. He's undoubtedly the best thing that ever happened to you.

You love him so much, you could burst from the feeling alone.

By the time you reach Steven's apartment, you have sneezed three times (you know because Steven was counting) and Steven's getting worried.

'I told you, love' he says when you are standing in front of the apartment door, 'you are going to catch a fever staying close to me. Look at you now,' he sounds concerned. But you chuckle, throwing your arms around his neck, 'it's fine,' you tell him, 'it means more cuddles and hot chocolates after all, doesn't it?'

Steven's concerned for you but you look so cute smiling like this that he can't help but smile with you. 'Maybe,' he says, pulling you closer by the waist.

Marc

You wake up with Marc sleeping next to you. He's cuddled up with you, his head resting on your chest. It's weird because usually Marc's up and about before you are. Reading the newspaper or grocery shopping or simply going on a walk. But today he was here and you liked it.

You push your fingers through Marc's hair and kiss his head. He feels warm. Marc always feels warm when he wakes up but today he is burning up.

'Marc,' you whisper, close to his ear - not wanting to wake him up. 'Mhm-hmm', he replies, nodding into your chest. 'Are you okay?' You ask. He looks up at you, his brown eyes looking like pools of honey in the sunlight streaming through the window. 'I'm fine.' He replies gruffly. His face is red. Awfully red.

'Are you sick?' You ask again, placing your palm on his cheek, 'you're burning up,' you mutter. 'No. I said I'm fine,' his voice is rougher than usual. He is absolutely sick.

Marc tries to move away from you but you wrap your arms around him before he can, he grumbles but ends up cuddling with you anyway.

Your sweet, grumpy boyfriend, oh, how you loved him.

Both of you stay like that for some time. But eventually, you have to get up and go about the day.

Marc wants to go to work. You tell him he can't but he wouldn't listen to you.

'Babe, you're sick.' 'No, I'm not.'

'I checked your temperature, honey, you need rest. And medicines.' Marc makes a face at you. 'I told you -' 'Marc,' your voice is much more stern now. 'Please, Marc, babe, it's one day. Stay in bed, yeah?' This time he doesn't argue.

You know Marc's stubborn but you won't let his stubbornness get into the way of his health.

You put his favorite soup for cooking and go out to get some medicines for him. Thankfully, he stays in bed.

When you come back home, Marc's fast asleep. You watch him like that. Sleeping so peacefully, like a child.

You know why Marc's the way he is. He didn't have a... great childhood. Well, let's be honest, he had an awful, traumatizing one, and for a long time, he has taken care of himself all alone.

You can understand why it's hard for him to ask for help or even accept help and love when it's given to him. It's hard for him to let people in, to let himself be taken care of.

But Marc is your boyfriend which means that somewhere, somehow you did something right and he let you in. And just like that, you will let him know that it's okay to let you care for him. That it's okay to be vulnerable in front of you, that he doesn't have to hide anything.

You make some coffee for yourself and get in bed with Marc. You are sitting up, reading a book and his head is in your lap, your fingers moving through his curls.

You drop the book after some time just to admire the person in front of you. He was so beautiful it made your heart flutter. You could look at him forever.

When Marc wakes up after a few hours he's still grumpy and tired.

'Just take the medicines, love,' you insist. Marc shrugs, 'Don't need them. I feel fine.' 'Marc-' 'You don't have to worry about me,' he cuts you off.

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes. You don't mean to cry but it happens anyway. You are not irritated, you are not tired of Marc. You could never tire of him. But you are scared. You are scared that he won't let you help him and it'll get worse. It's just a fever but you can't help but want it to go away and Marc to feel better.

Marc's expression softens when he notices the tears in your eyes. He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, 'I'm sorry,' he says, 'didn't mean to sound like that,' he takes the medicines from your hand.

After that Marc doesn't fight it. He lets you give him a massage, eats what you cook for him without a word, and by the time he takes a hot shower he is feeling very much better and his fever's gone.

It had been... a day. For Marc and for you. He has been quiet and angry the whole day but at night, finally, he smiles at you, wrapping his arms around you.

'Thank you,' he whispers into your hair. You are sitting in his lap, 'you don't have to thank me, Marc,' you say taking his face in your hands. Marc sighs, 'I know I can be... difficult. I just-' 'No you're not,' you interrupt him, 'not to me... ever,' you say.

Marc smiles, 'I love you,' he whispers before planting a kiss on your lips. You want to reply and tell him you love him too but he's kissing you with everything and you don't want to break the spell.

Jake

You come home to find Jake in the kitchen. He's cooking pasta, you can tell by the smell. Or maybe he's just heating up the pasta you made this morning.

You practically run across the house to get to him and plant a kiss on his cheek, hugging him by the side. 'Hello, babe', you say. But your smile drops the moment you see him. His eyes aren't set and sharp as they usually are, instead they are tired and he looks a bit lousy.

You are confused if it's Steven who's fronting but you know it's Jake when he says, 'Hola, cariño,' he smiles at you.

You push yourself between the kitchen counter and Jake, taking his face in your hands.

'You look tired,' you say. He coughs a little before replying, 'goddamn fever. But don't you worry about it, princesa.'

'You should rest, Jake, what are you doing?' You say, taking his hands in yours. 'Apparently, Khonshu's freaky armor can't protect you from diseases -' he sneezes and curses under his breath.

Okay, Jake hates being sick. He doesn't like it. It makes him feel weak and really soft and pathetic for some reason.

You take off his hat and ruffle his curls with your fingers, saying, 'How about you take some rest and I'll get the food? Get in bed, hm?' Jake smirks, snaking his hands around your waist, 'You really do want me in your bed don't you, mi vida?' You roll your eyes at his comment but a blush creeps up your neck. 'Did I forget the part where I said you need to rest?' You say, a smile tugging on your lips. He frowns.

'I don't need rest. What I need is a good fu- 'Jake' you stop him mid-sentence, glaring. 'What?' He shrugs and walks into the bedroom.

You sigh. Your breath going at a rapid speed. Jake really is good at getting to you. He makes you want to kiss him all the time. But, despite everything, Jake always puts things off, neglecting his needs. Like, right now. He won't admit that he is sick. He wouldn't let you look after him but you have to.

You care for him. Deeply. And you have to make sure that he's okay.

You walk into the bedroom with the pasta plate in your hands. Jake's on the bed. He's removed his shirt, and his bare skin glistens in the dim light.

Your breath catches in your throat.

'How do you feel? You ask Jake, sitting by him on the bed.

He mumbles something and wraps his arms around your waist, his head in your lap.

'I am tired, cariño,' he finally admits after a few moments of silence. You smile, 'I know,' you say, raking your fingers through his soft curls, 'It's alright,' you tell him. He lets out a weary sigh and snuggles closer to you. Your back rests against the wall.

Jake doesn't really spend a lot of time with you. He is barely ever fronting. He isn't much of a talker either, he expresses his feelings with his actions more than his words.

It has been some... work, trying to understand Jake. He's like a puzzle you can't solve, but you want him to know you're trying. Because you love him and he deserves everything.

Your eyes fall on Jake's broad shoulders and their slight movement as he breathes. You move your hands to touch his neck. His skin is still hot despite taking the medicines.

You massage his back in slow, brisk movements. For a moment you think he might fight it but he doesn't say anything,

'Feels good?' You ask. He nods in reply.

Jake is different when it comes to the three of them. Unlike Marc and Steven, he's never had a... life. He's always inside, barely ever fronting. He thinks of himself as only a protector of the system. That he's someone Marc needs when things get worse. You don't want him to think of himself like that.

You want Jake to know that he's just as deserving of love as any of them, that he's more than just a protector. He's more than just the worst parts of Marc turned into a person.

He's soft and loving, and the most amazing person you know.

Jake moves, sitting up in bed beside you making you stop abruptly.

'You don't have to go driving tonight, you know?' You say, sitting in front of him. Partly on the bed, partly on his lap, the inside of your knees draped around his thighs.

'Yo se,' he replies with a sigh, 'but I still have to go be the fist of vengeance.' You frown at his comment, 'You deserve a day off I think.' It makes him chuckle.

'Give me your arm,' you whisper, taking his arm in your hands. You thought a good massage would make him feel better.

But, apparently, this isn't what he wants. Jake wraps his palm around your wrist and pulls you to him. Your hands resting on his chest and your faces inches apart and then, he plants a kiss on your lips.

Somehow you trying to give Jake a massage turns into a hot make-out session. Not that you had any complaints. If this was what he needed then you'd give it to him.

Afterwards, you two lay on the bed, your head resting on Jake's shoulder. He's playing with your hair.

He isn't feverish anymore but his skin is still warm.

'How do you feel?' You ask him now, 'Maravilloso, mi amor.' He says and you chuckle as he kisses your jaw.

You might not know everything about Jake but you know that you love him. So much. And that's really all that matters.

[redahlia-writes]

dream a little dream of me. | steven grant

Abstract: He thought it’d be awkward. He thought the lie would be too much and that he wouldn’t be able to keep up, that perhaps his shyness would get the best of him, and though he wanted desperately to try for you, he was terrified he’d somehow mess it all up. But he finds himself at ease, a sense of home he’s not sure he’s ever felt before.

Words: 3K

Content: f!reader; fluff, just fluff, fake dating, a little awkwardness, them being down bad for each other, yes it’s november and i’m posting a christmas fic

A/N: is this based on this tiktok i’ve seen months ago and haven’t been able to stop thinking about? yes it is. but moving on - (scene is from doctor who’s christmas special “the time of the doctor”)

also on AO3 - masterlist

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“Emergency, you’re my boyfriend.”

For a moment, he thinks he hasn’t heard you correctly - it’s not the first time he receives a call from you that starts with an absurd statement, question or words that overall leave him confused. He’s almost grown fond of it, though this time it takes him too long to process what you’re saying.

“Ding dong, okay,” he replies, and frowns at himself - what? “I might be a bit rusty in some areas, but -” stop talking. “No, no,” you sound frantic, a clatter in the background followed by a string of curses under your breath before you clear your throat. “You’re not actually my boyfriend, Steven.”

“Oh, that was quick,” you snort, only to return right away to your muttering and swearing, followed by more loud noises that truly make him worry for your safety. “What’s going on? Why do you sound like that?”

“Because it’s Christmas, and I lied to my family, and this bloody oven won’t work and I’m so behind with dinner - fuck,” he knows your phone slipped and fell to the ground - there’s more rattling, a slam, a sigh. “They’ve been setting me up on blind dates for ages until I told them I had a boyfriend, and they said they couldn’t wait to meet him for Christmas - I thought they were joking, but now it’s Christmas and I don’t have a boyfriend and they asked about him for tonight, so I need you to be my boyfriend. Please.”

The last time he heard you so panicked was when a group of school kids had run inside the museum, escaping the control of their teachers. You had fussed and worried about the artefacts in spite of the glass cases, and he’d had to bring you a hot chocolate to calm you down as the children settled back into order, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you at last got up for their tour.

“You do know I’m Jewish, right?” he asks then, and you groan quietly. “Well, mazel tov - you’re still coming to your girlfriend’s Christmas dinner,” he laughs then, shaking his head a little - of course he is, he’s decided the moment he heard your nervous rambling, getting up from the desk to get to the closet and change out of his worn out clothes - he knows it’s play pretend, but his mind still started reeling about the need of making a good impression on your family, and he cannot do that in a washed out white shirt and old trousers with more than a hole in them.

“Alright, alright - so bossy,” he replies, and hears you exhale in relief, a temporary pause that is interrupted by a too loud ding that makes you yelp, quick steps passing by, more noise. “Hey, take a deep breath for me, love, will you?” he calls out - he knows the phone is still on the floor, speaker on, your hands otherwise busy. Later on, once he gets to your place before the rest of your family, he’ll find it there, still.

“Can’t,” you call right back, yelling a little over the sound of running water. “I’ll be there in a bit,” he sighs, and hangs up before you can respond, hoping that, at the very least, your house won’t burn down in the time it takes him to get ready.

To say your family is loud is an understatement. From the moment they walked through the door, Steven’s senses have been assaulted by greetings and laughters and too-tight hugs.

He finds he doesn’t mind it one bit.

He helps you bring the food to the table, keeping an eye on your injured hand - a shallow cut from a broken glass he cleaned and bandaged himself because you refused to lose too much time going to get it checked. Stubborn, he’s muttered under his breath, and you’ve waved a spoon in his direction in mock threat, making him laugh.

He truly doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen so much food, vegan options thrown in the mix he knows for a fact you’ve done last minute when he’s accepted to go along with your lie - he’s thankful for it, for you, for this night.

Your mother is the most curious about him - and where did you meet, she asks, and how long have you been together, and how’s his job, and -

“Mum,” you call just then, loading her plate again with a pointed look. “It’s Christmas, not a job interview. Give him a break, will ya?” “I’m just curious,” the woman shrugs, looking at you and then Steven, then back at you. “You always talk so much about him, I want to hear some of those things from him,” she protests, and for a moment your movements still, face heating up.

“Ma!” you complain, a quick glance in Steven’s direction as he grins - his cheeks hurt for how much he’s been smiling tonight.

He thought it’d be awkward. He thought the lie would be too much and that he wouldn’t be able to keep up, that perhaps his shyness would get the best of him, and though he wanted desperately to try for you, he was terrified he’d somehow mess it all up. But he finds himself at ease, a sense of home he’s not sure he’s ever felt before.

And it’s not so difficult to pretend to adore you, to be in love with you - it’s not pretending at all, really. So he slips into it, that tugging at his heart that makes him feel warm all over whenever you hug him, or rest your hand on his arm, or talk with him in that enthusiastic way that makes your eyes shine a little bit brighter.

“Well, we met at work,” he clears his throat, pushing the few crumbs that remain on his plate around to stop himself from fidgeting with his hands too obviously. You fill his glass again, a new surge of affection in his eyes when he glances at you. “It was her first day, and I still worked at the gift shop - she bought too much candy right after her first tour ended and accidentally started her second one late because I kept her talking about some of the newest artefacts,” you snort, shaking your head a little - it feels like ages have passed.

He doesn’t talk about everything else - about Khonshu, and Marc, and Ammit. He doesn’t mention the help you’ve been during the whole mess, that you’re most likely the only reason he’s still got a job - and a promotion on top of that - and how you’ve kept him sane in the aftermath just by being his friend. He wants to say you’re probably the most important person in his life as for now, but he doesn’t because his mask would fall then and expose him to everyone in the room, you included. For now, it’s just pretend.

“In his defence, I’m the one who started rambling, and he had to remind me I actually had a job to do, so -” you shrug a little, but the smile doesn’t leave your lips. He’s looking at them too often tonight, he knows, but he can’t help himself.

“Is that why you called him your saviour?” your mother chuckles, and you almost drop the glass in your hands, eyes widening. Steven coughs on his mouthful of wine.

“Did you, really?” he wonders, and doesn’t want to sound amused but truly cannot help it. “I thought you’d said it as a joke,” he still remembers - the embarrassed laugh, frantically reaching for your badge as you walk towards the exhibition area, calling over your shoulder a you’re my saviour, thank you!, quickly hiding the candy in the pockets of your skirt.

“Half joke,” you scoff, bumping your knee with his under the table - that’s just for him, not for the show, and he smiles again. “I reckon I wouldn’t have liked it particularly if I had been fired on my first day.”

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have liked that either,” he muses, your nose scrunching up with your smile as you lean in a little. “But we’ve been friends since - she also helped me get out of the gift shop, somehow convinced our boss I should do some of her tours.”

“That she told us - spent the whole day complaining about Donna, is it?” both of you groan a little at the woman’s name, then quickly exchange a look that your father, not-entirely distracted by whatever was playing faintly from the TV, notices with his eyebrows raised.

“What she did not tell us,” your mother chimes in again, hands locked under her chin, “is how this,” she gestures between the two of you, a coy smile upturning her lips, “happened.”

“Ma!” you say again, one hand rising to cover eyes and forehead as you sink a little into the chair. At his side, your grandma chuckles, elbowing Steven gently.

“They’re shy, can’t you see?” she tuts, her eyes moving from Steven to you. “Haven’t even kissed once, these two.”

“Come on, leave the kids alone,” your father says, now no longer paying attention to the TV. “What? It’s just a kiss!” the older woman protests, grinning up at Steven. “It’s Christmas after all, what’d you say, young man?”

“Oh, God,” you mutter under your breath, both hands lifted to cover your face. Steven feels his neck burn, words tangling on the tip of his tongue as he glances at you, back at your grandmother, you again, unsure of what to do, say, think. “As long as you drop it.”

There’s an apologetic look in your eyes when you drop your hands and turn towards him - he wants to say it’s fine and don’t worry but he can’t, because you’re leaning in and brushing your lips to his. It’s quick, a peck, a brush of lips that makes his heart flutter, and you’re holding your breath, the tip of your fingers caressing his chin before you’re pulling back, leaving him dazzled, yearning for the taste of wine on your mouth.

“There,” you clear your throat, reaching for your glass with a hand that shakes slightly - there’s a groan at the other end of the round table, and in his temporary haze Steven sees your eyes widen, fingers curling around nothing, a notch away from the glass.

“You call that a kiss?” suddenly you’re wondering if you should’ve stopped bringing bottles of wine when your grandfather refilled his glass for the 6th time, his mood certainly turning jolly. Loud. Boisterous. “Come on, lad. Give her a proper kiss!”

“For the love of -” you look at him and sigh again, shaking your head a little. “Pops, really, it’s not -” you turn to Steven, still apologetic looking.

A split second, and he’s kissing you. Steven shouldn’t be taking advantage of the situation, he knows, but it’s a proper kiss and your grandfather is laughing. And Steven is kissing you, a proper kiss - gentle, delicate, and your hands come up to cup his jaw before you can help yourself, suddenly not wanting him to part from you. His stubble scratches your palm, and you let your eyes flutter shut at last, surprise leaving place to ease.

It’s easy, kissing Steven. It’s soft and gentle and warm all at once, and his hand is on the back of your head while the other rests on your thigh - his fingers trace a pattern over your clothes, and through the small fireworks popping in your mind you manage to discern letters. S-o-r-r-y, the apology on the tip of his fingers as the kiss goes on for longer, his lips parting and yours with them, melting towards him.

You would laugh, if you could remember how to breathe. Instead you’re carefully bringing your hand to Steven’s curls, slowly smoothing them back from his face, and your lungs are burning because you’re supposed to be breathing but really you don’t want this to end, you want to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until you’ve grown tired of it and then some.

It’s Steven that eventually pulls away, and there’s an odd noise trapped at the back of your throat as you force your eyes to open, to make it seem as if that wasn’t your first kiss, as if you didn’t feel the ground rock beneath your feet, and your heart wasn’t trying to jump out of its place behind your ribcage.

The tip of Steven’s nose is bright red, as if he stood in the cold for too long, and it spreads across his cheeks like a rosy brushstroke - his lips are a little parted, short bursts of air coming out of it as he looks back at you with his eyes shimmering a little. He looks unbelievably pretty, and it takes every ounce of willpower in you to turn away instead of diving right back towards his lips.

“So, who wants dessert?”

You’ve been looking at him for a while. He’s in the living room, carefully stocking up the empty plates from the table, setting the cutlery aside, the paper crown sitting a little askew on his curls. He’s humming as he does so, and a smile catches on your lips - it’s Dream A Little Dream Of Me, a song you’ve found yourself singing often in between tours, Doris Day’s version constantly stuck in your head.

“I will deal with that in the morning - you’ve already done more than enough,” you tell him softly, reaching his side. He looks up towards you, your eyes meeting for the first time since after the kiss - it still burns on your cheeks, lips, neck, the tip of your ears. “Thank you.”

“I cannot possibly leave you with this mess,” he argues, still gathering what’s left on the table - empty glasses and paper from gift wrappings and Christmas crackers. “What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?” he grins a little, and you laugh, shaking your head. The clock behind his head signals 2:34 AM.

“I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for what you did tonight,” you reach up to fix the paper crown on his head, and he forgoes the plates and forks to turn to you.  “I enjoyed it,” he’s fidgeting a little, fingers tapping along his thighs. “My family - it’s never been like this, I’ve never had anything like it. It was nice. I’m glad you asked me.”

Steven’s never spoken a lot about his family, or Marc’s family - he’s mentioned things off-handedly, but has always been quick to change the subject, and you haven’t asked, there was no need. Still, the hurt is palpable each time, and it makes you ache for him. For them.

“Well, you’re invited next year as well, then,” you say, stepping a little closer and lifting his hand towards him in offering, the other reaching for your phone in your pocket. “Come, there’s one more thing.”

Steven frowns but obliges, watching as your thumb quickly slides across the screen while you wrap your hand around his, and soon enough soft music starts playing from the speakers - the first notes of the song turn Steven’s lips in a smile as you put the phone away again, looking at him again.

“Not Ella Fitzgerald’s?” he wonders, your now free hand reaching for his shoulder. Tentatively, he places his hand on your waist, slowly catching on on your intentions when you start rocking side by side, following the music.

“My grandma would play Golden Girl all the time when I was with her,” he starts following your movements, albeit a little slower, a little unsure. “I think it stuck,” you shrug lightly, taking a little step to the side, then back - Steven follows, looking down towards the floor. “Steven.” “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking up, then back down. You smile a little, drawing closer.

Once the initial awkwardness vanishes, Steven is great - he finds his footing and begins leading, steps becoming wider, more sure, and you let him move you both around the living room as you hum the words almost under your breath, never looking away - Stars fading but I linger on, dear / Still craving your kiss / I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear / Just saying this…

He’s looking at you, too, and smiling still - for a moment you wonder if there truly was too much wine, because his eyes are shimmering, and his cheeks are still red like right after the kiss, as if he’s still warm all over, and then -

“Mistletoe,” he says, so soft you almost don’t hear him, even if the music is low, even if you have stopped singing for a while. You look up towards the doorframe you’re somehow under, and Steven is unbelievably close, his chin tilted up to look at the small plant hanging above your heads, throat exposed to you.

“Steven?” he snaps out of it as soon as you call his name, gentle, and meets your eyes. “Yes, love?”

You desperately hope you haven’t misread the whole evening. You also hope the wine induced courage won’t leave you right now as your eyes flicker to his parted lips. You lean in, gripping his shoulder a little tighter for balance, and the moment your lips brush his he shudders a little, but pulls you closer right away. He hiccups lightly, dips his head forward, and though the kiss is initially hesitant, it’s true.

It’s somehow softer than the one at the table, slower, gentler, and you both melt into it, into each other, hands untangling only to reach for the other - your arms wrap around his shoulders, and his palm presses gently against the small of your back. Steven sighs into the kiss, shoulders sagging as if in relief.

It doesn’t last long, and when you pull away, he chases the contact for a moment longer, lips searching for yours once, twice, and then he stops, eyes widening again as he looks at you. You feel yourself smiling, hand moving from the back of his neck to brush his curls away from his forehead.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper, the tip of your nose bumping his, and his face splits in a wide grin, holding you a little closer, a little tighter. He won’t let go now - not for the rest of the night.

“Aces.”

[ivystoryweaver]

Jake you’re in trouble! Everyone’s in trouble

Jakes such an infant in love, Steven I have no words bb. Marc is trying to CEO this clown factory holy 💩

Cmon boys pull it together. And stay alive? Apparently….👀

This drama got me like ☝️

Chapter 13: Inner Demons

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @whatthefishh - Special thank you to @moonknightly for assisting with some technicalities in this chapter.

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary

Steven learns some devastating news. You feel more confused than ever.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu (as a deity), talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded, minor mentions of alcohol addiction and depression.

Word Count: 2.9k

----

When Steven woke up on the Monday following his birthday, he didn’t think that his entire world would blow up the way it did, more than it already had before that day. He thought that he’d already experienced the worst day of his life on the day a rift was torn between the two of you. He was wrong.

He still avoided Moonbean Coffee like the building alone would put him in a straight jacket. He still had to walk by it on the way to his classroom though. Every time he passed by it there was an unrivaled pain in his gut that he couldn’t easily shake. He looked at his reflection in the window. The way the panes sat gave Steven the perfect view at both Marc and Jake. He scowled at them and continued his walk.

He hated seeing you. He hated sitting at his desk, watching you walk through the door in your pretty clothes and perfect face. He hated that he couldn’t look forward to seeing you in his office later just so he could kiss you, and be close to you. He still dreamt about you all the time. He especially loved the dream he had on the night of his birthday, where he had you outside on the hood of his…well he could tell it wasn’t his…but a car. Your eyes were so full of love when you looked at him in his dreams. Sometimes he wished he could live in there.

Now your eyes were staring at your laptop screen. He could tell that you were trying so hard to keep them there, trying so hard not to meet his gaze. You finally did look at him though, when he reminded everyone of the next big assignment due…midterms. You’d forgotten, he could see it plain as day on your face. It was like you were begging him silently to take it back. Given everything he’d put you through, it was no wonder you weren’t prepared. He failed you as a man, and as a professor.

You remembered the substitute professor mentioning the midterm assignment once…was it twice? You sighed in a frustrated huff. The sub could’ve mentioned it a hundred times and you would’ve forgotten. Your mind wasn’t on school in the slightest. You’d been so wrapped up in Steven, the late night rendezvous, and his return to school, that you’d completely let the essay due on the renaissance slip your mind.

It was straight to the library for you once class was over. No way in hell were you going to be able to focus in your dorm room, nor were you going to have the resources you would need in order to get your research done. You didn’t even have a topic picked out yet. You couldn’t fail this class, not after you’d told your parents that you would get tutoring and do well in history this year.

You sat down in the back corner of the library, as you often did, pulling out your laptop before resting your face in your hands. You felt drained; emotionally, mentally, even intellectually. Spring break was right around the corner, but it couldn’t come soon enough. You needed the mental reset to get yourself back on track. You needed to move on from him somehow. You knew that much was true, you’d known it for a while. 

It helped that he’d been more distant over the last few weeks. You felt like you could break things off easier now, and it might not hurt as much as the initial blow when he broke it off in his office. That didn’t mean that it was going to be easy…it just meant that you were finally ready to move on. At least, that’s how you felt at that moment. 

You let out a heavy sigh. This was it. You were too smart for all of this nonsense. You and your parents were putting too much into your schooling for you to let it all fall apart over…whatever was still going on between you and Steven. It was time for you to actually move on. It was time for you to let go, despite still feeling some love for him, and despite the fact that he had taken so much from you and hurt you the way he did.

It was that simple. You would just let things go back to normal. The next time he texted you to meet outside, you would ignore it. You were happy with your decision, but when you lowered your hands from your face, he was standing there, looking nervous with his hands clenched into balls in front of him. You wondered if he knew that he did things like that, and you wondered if he knew how effortlessly cute it was. You just wanted to kiss that wrinkled spot between his upturned brow. So much for letting him go.

“Hey…hi erm…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

He was feeling a little bit of regret wash over him after approaching you. He shouldn’t have done that. Both Jake and Marc were practically screaming at him to stop, both for different reasons, but telling him to stay away from you all the same. He was shoving them back again, his desire to comfort you and help you outweighting their shouting in his mind. Steven was a little surprised by your expression though. You didn’t look angry, or even sad as he thought you might. You looked…confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked in a harsh whisper, trying to make sure that no one in the library would hear you speaking to him.

He looked surprised at your response, furrowing his brow and stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. His jaw dropped, and he started stammering to find the words to say. He looked around, making sure no one was there before he continued.

“I-I…well…I could see that you were a-a little taken aback when I reminded everyone of the paper so I thought…if we are in a public setting I wouldn’t mind still tutoring you if you really need–”

“Steven, what the fuck are you talking about?” You looked around the library, panicked.

You thought back to the texts he’d sent you just over a week ago:

Steven: Hey love, I’m coming back to school tomorrow. I think it’s time. Make sure not to speak to me or even come near me, alright?

Steven: Can’t even have you asking for help with class. Just pretend you don’t know me at all if you want this to continue.

“You’re still my student, I still have a responsibility to help you. If we’re in a public place it will force us to keep our hands to ourselves. If you even still like me that way. I’m not saying you do, I’m not sayin’ that. Probably should’ve tutored you in public in first place now that I’m thinkin’–”

“You told me to pretend I didn’t know you, first of all and second, why would you think I don’t like you when…” you looked around and lowered your voice further, “when we were just with each other last night?”

He sniffed out a laugh, narrowing his eyes in confusion. You saw his brow furrow as if he had no idea what you were talking about. He shook his head like he was trying to understand what you were saying, as though you were speaking a language foreign to him. Then you saw the complete shift in his expression, as though a huge realization hit him. He stepped back, covering his mouth in his hand.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the–

“I’ve gotta go,” he said suddenly, leaving the library quickly, leaving you more confused than you’d ever felt.

“Steven…what the hell was she talking about…‘with each other last night’?” Marc asked, voice full of anger.

Steven didn’t answer. He was shaking, trying hard to keep from falling over on his wobbling legs. He’d never felt like this before, such anger, dread, and panic rushing through his veins like a doctor had given him an emotional cocktail in a syringe. Adrenaline forced his hands to tremble, he noticed it when he opened the door to the outside.

Nothing good could come from him screaming at the other two while he stormed out of the building. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself, despite the panic building inside his chest. How he made it to his flat in one piece was beyond his understanding. He was still shaking uncontrollably when he tried to get the key in the door handle. He dropped them loudly in the hall. He thought he heard one of his kind neighbors ask if he was alright as they exited their own flat, but his hearing was like white noise.

The moment he stepped inside, he slammed the door behind himself and he dropped to the floor. He buried his face in his hands, and let the pain surge through him. This couldn’t be. This couldn’t be true. How could this happen? Steven had never hated himself, and the men inside his head so much. He yelled out, slapping his hand on the floor.

“Steven! Have you been seeing her behind our BACK?!” Marc yelled, forcing his way to the front in place of Steven. He stood up, walking over to the three-way mirror to face his alters. “Answer me!”

Steven looked at Marc with the utmost disdain Marc had ever seen his alter muster.

“Wasn’t me…” 

A tear trickled down Steven’s cheek. Marc could feel the rage inside of him. This was unusual for Steven, even in his angriest moments. Steven thought back to last night. The ‘dreams’ he and Marc had been having; you bent over various parts of a car they didn’t recognize; the way you looked at them in their dreams, like something was off about the way they were talking to you, or the way they were acting.

“Jake.” Both Marc and Steven said, looking at Jake’s panel in the reflection.

Marc grabbed onto the mirror. It trembled under his grip. Jake didn’t let much bother him, or shake his usual calm demeanor, but the other two were glaring at him. It wasn’t uncommon for Marc to hold a look of aggravation, but Steven…Steven looking at him that way made him feel an insurmountable wave of guilt like never before.

“Are you guys going to let me explain or are you going to cut me off and yell at me the second I start talkin–”

“How dare you.” Steven said and Jake threw his arms up in frustration at the interruption. “You knew I was suffering, going through this…this…break up, and you kept seeing her? Behind my back?”

“Escucha hermano! Por favor,” Jake said, sensing that Steven was getting even more upset by the second, and rightfully so.

Steven was fronting again, and the tears started flowing freely. He felt distraught with the pain of betrayal reverberating through his bones. He had to think, to make sure he was understanding correctly what was happening. He stepped away from the mirror with his face buried in his hands.

You had been sleeping with Jake for who knows how long, while Steven took a back seat and Marc thought he had everything under control. The lying snake. Jake’s moral compass was always questionable, but this was low, even for him. At least he’d been considerate of the system in the past. Even his immorality had good intentions behind them. This was completely and utterly selfish.

“Does she know?” Steven dropped his hands and looked at his reflection…at Jake, “does she know that she was sleeping with someone else?!”

The silence was all the answer Steven needed. You’d been letting Jake have his way with you without realizing it was him this entire time. He was out of words to say. It was like his face was frozen, mouth slackjaw and eyes glistening with the realization of what this meant. You thought that Steven and you were still together, and Jake had been tricking you into sleeping with him. This was disgusting. This was bad…this was very bad.

“Jake, you of all people should understand what kind of trouble we could be in!” Marc yelled, “I mean come on! The poor girl already dealt with the heartbreak of losing Steven once, and now you’re going to–”

“We have to tell her, Marc.” Steven said, looking into his panel. “After what he put her through? She deserves the truth.”

“No, no we can’t tell her the truth,” Jake chimed in, “she will leave us for good.”

“Good!” Marc yelled, “that would be the best thing that could happen right now. I’m with Steven on this one.” Marc grumbled under his breath. “Poor girl, you’re sick Jake. The three of us are supposed to be keeping a low profile, and you might just manage to get us arrested, or at best put in an asylum.”

“Thank you Mar–”

“Why do you got such a stick up your ass over this huh? Nobody is worried about a small-time professor at a random college in the US. Khonshu and his men won’t find us, even if she and Steven got caught. You coulda just let them stay together! If you tell her the truth now we just might get caught, ever think of tha pendejo?”

“That’s not even the point anymore, you fucked her in the back seat of your fucking car and she deserves to know that!” Steven’s voice cracked while he yelled, swearing more than Marc had ever heard in all the years he’d had Steven around. “There’s no way in hell she’s staying with us after this, and I wouldn’t blame her! She shouldn’t stay with us! Congratulations to the both of you for, once again, managing to ruin my life!” Steven sighed, “I ruined her life. Never should’ve dragged her into this. We need to come clean, it’s the right thing to do.”

Steven charged over and grabbed his coat from the coat rack, but Jake stopped him, taking over the body.

“Not a chance hermano, I’m not letting you ruin this for us,” he stepped away from the coat rack, dropping Steven’s jacket on the floor.

Jake didn’t want to keep deceiving you, of course not. He wouldn’t consider himself a bad person, or someone that took pleasure in causing you emotional pain, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at him. Your eyes always lit up a little when your gaze met his. It was like nothing else mattered, and he’d never felt that with anyone before. The thought of losing that feeling - of losing you - gave him a sense of desperation unlike any he’d ever felt. He considered that he might rather die than experience the agony of not having you in their life.

“So…what? Are you just going to keep doing this to her? What the hell is wrong with you?!” Steven protested.

Marc took over again, and he went to the couch and sat down, taking a deep breath. He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head and sighing deeply. This was such a fucking mess. They were always making such a fucking mess of everything. He and Jake had made Steven’s life hell, and in Marc’s attempt to make his life better, both Steven and Jake had fallen for someone they weren’t allowed to have. Marc once again felt an overwhelming sense of self loathing. 

“Dumb…this is so…” Marc leaned back, staring at the ceiling and taking a moment to embrace the silence, “dumb.”

“We can’t tell her, she’ll hate us. I…I don’t want to let her go.”

There was a pull at Marc’s heartstrings from the one that he least expected to feel it from…Jake Lockley. He expected this from Steven, but never from Jake. Marc’s fist was clenched so hard that his knuckles ached. He ran a hand through his messy curls, courtesy of Steven, and then he let his hands drop to his sides.

“We can’t let her keep meeting with you and thinking it’s me, Jake. S’wrong and you know it. Oughta be ashamed. Disgusting.” Steven spat, seething with anger toward Jake.

Marc reached into Steven’s pants pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened up your contact and pressed the little green phone.

“Steven, gonna need you to–”

“Yeah, on it,” he said, coming to the front and waiting for you to pick up on the other end.

He could feel Jake trying to stop him, but to no avail. Steven knew what had to be done, and they were going to do it. There was no way around it anymore. The three of them were a package deal, that much was evident, and it was time for them to tell you the truth. You picked up on the other line, and Steven’s breath caught in his throat.

“Steven? Why the hell are you calling me?” You must’ve still been in the library, based on your harsh whisper.

“Can you come to my flat, please? We need to talk.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said–”

“Now…”

----

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Moon Knight Masterlist

[ping-ski]

shrödinger's plex fic (they are real to me)

EBY eclipse and y/n ref here!! :3

[octaviasdread]

Thinking about Carpe Diem and the cinematography of falling leaves to falling snow.

Seasons as cyclical as generations. It's tapestries and banners. It’s photographs on the wall. A structure, a system; tradition in the bones of buildings and boys.

There's a choice to be made - Nolan's hollow, ceremonial Light of Knowledge, or Neil's scavenged, man-made God of the Cave?

They’re children living for the future through a lens of past. Fireside stories embraced by woodland caves. They chant, dance, and recite from a sacred book - the heirloom they claim from a father they chose.

The window is finally open, but time froze at Welton lake. Forever winter. Forever youth. A moment in time, a feeling, a community turned to dust.

It's all so fleeting. Carpe Diem. Teenage years, childhood, a lifetime in three months. It’s a tragedy of classical epics.

The tale is old, but this wound is fresh. Falling to your knees. Shouting at the sky, praying and wailing, and clutching at the earth.

But the snow never stops.

Spring is up to us.

[pimosworld]

Stranger in my house

Pairing-Moon boys x F!reader ( Secretly Jake x f!reader) Marc Spector x f!reader/ Steven grant x f!reader

CW-18+,MDNI,Angst,Fluff,Insecurities, inaccurate depiction of DID, reader is semi aware of Jake. Protective Marc, Steven being sweet as always. Established relationship with Marc and Steven.

WK-1.6k

Summary-Snippets of a life where Jake struggles to stay in the shadows.

A/N- Dedicated to my moonknight babes. I have not forsaken you.

[Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

You notice him one day.

  A year into your relationship and Marc is fed up with Steven and yours overflowing books on the floor of the flat. “We need another bookshelf.” He grumbles at your suggestion because he would just get rid of some if he had the choice. 

  That’s how you find yourself curled up on the couch with some tea and ironically a book while you watch Marc put together the new shelf you and Steven picked out. 

  It was ornate with cherry wood accents and came with a miniature ladder to help you reach the top shelf. You didn’t think it would be too complicated but it seems as Marc stares at the pages like they are ancient hieroglyphics, you may have caused a bit more of a headache than you intended. 

  He mutters something incoherent under his breath ‘déjeme ver’. You don’t bother to ask if he needs help when the scowl on his face deepens even further into an almost unrecognizable version of your boyfriend. 

  You glance up occasionally to watch the way his back strains against the tight black t-shirt, or the way his ass looks in his jeans when he bends over. Marc and Stevens movements are so unalike and yet even now the way he stands up and straightens as he rolls his neck is so unlike Marc. 

  You stop ogling to resume your book and find yourself several chapters in when you look up to see it finished. “Oh honey, it looks so good.” 

  The look he gives you when he turns around is more of a smirk of amusement. You glance down briefly to mark your page before standing from the couch to inspect his handy work. You don’t notice the way he’s watching you as you slide your hands along the smooth wood shelves. You grab a few of your favorite books that were piled on the floor and strategically place them in some specific secret order that no one but you is privy to. 

  You turn to him and wrap your arms around his neck, waiting for him to scoop you up as he usually does. His hands hover hesitantly at your waist and then he pulls you flush against him. You almost have no room to breathe as you chuckle lightly into his neck. You swear he smells your hair before he abruptly lets you go. 

  “Hi love, do you like the bookcase?” Your sweet Steven has a slightly wild look in his eyes as waits for your response. 

  “Of course I do, we picked it out together silly.” You lean in and kiss him on the cheek and he relaxes at your touch. “If you’re listening Marc, I love it, since you disappeared on me.” 

  “Right ya…Marc. He says you're welcome.” 

  ****

  You notice one day

  You had spent all afternoon preparing a special dinner and dessert for Marc. The flat is adorned with candles and smells of fresh pasta and apple pie. 

  When Marc walks through the door you can see it written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything about you making his favorites because technically it’s not his birthday. It’s the day after. 

  You enjoy each other's company in comfortable silence as you wait for him to finish. He raises an eyebrow at you as you hand him a small box, unwrapped because then it’s not a birthday gift. 

  He opens it slowly to reveal his watch that broke months ago, the small hand ticking away right in front of his eyes. 

  You should thank her mate

  She didn’t need to do all this for my birthday 

  Well it’s technically not anymore is it? 

  He doesn’t say anything but you decide to press on with your plan. Even if it’s not exactly the reaction you were expecting at the very least he’s not protesting it. 

  “I have one more thing.” You stand from the table and head to the kitchen to retrieve the apple pie on warm in the oven. To you it’s just a dessert, a non cake related dessert that just so happened to be his favorite. Steven helped you with the vegan crust because he was not about to let Marc have all the fun. 

  You return to the table with a slice and a fork to share. He stares at it for a moment and your heart sinks a little. 

  “I know what you’re going to say…”

  He cuts you off before you can finish, he stands so suddenly it startles you. He kisses you slowly at first, savoring the way you moan into his mouth. His hand is on the back of your head and the other around your waist and it feels so different. It’s like you’re sending him off to war and this is the last kiss you’ll ever share. Your lungs burn from lack of air but you don’t want to be the first one to break. 

  He pulls away as you look up at him. His eyes are squeezed so tightly shut as he tries to catch his breath. 

  “Honey,look at me.” 

  His brow softens as he opens his eyes revealing that deep chocolate brown, with a look that could only adorn your sweet Stevens face. 

  “Thank you, love.” 

  ****

  It goes like this for a while. You noticing him…him noticing you. 

  You notice as You quirk your eyebrow at him in the kitchen when he picks out the tomato on his sandwich and drops it in the trash like it personally wronged him.  

  “I thought you liked those?” 

  He notices After a long day at work in shoes you know we’re too uncomfortable he picks up your feet and places them in his lap. He rubs them at first bordering on painful that settles into something soothing. His fingers brush the bottom of your feet and you flinch at the ticklish feeling. He tsks at you under his breath and you still your movements when you meet his unfamiliar eyes. 

  You notice When he doesn’t hear you enter the flat. He’s at the kitchen sink washing dishes, shirtless in those gray sweatpants you love. He’s humming some tune you’ve never heard as you place your things down and toe off your shoes. You didn’t mean to startle him as your cold hands met his side and he turned quickly knocking a glass off the counter. 

  “Mierda quédate ahí!” You don’t speak Spanish but you’re too stunned to move anyway. He grabs you with one arm around your waist and carries you like a duffel bag over to the couch away from the glass. 

  “Sorry love, clumsy me. I’ll get this cleaned up.” Steven doesn’t look at you as he grabs the broom from the closet. 

  ****

He notices when he slinks in through the window in the early hours. It’s still dark outside as he strips himself of his moon knight clothes, the blood only distinguishable on his hands. As he slips past you to the shower he can see your shallow breaths while you lay out flat on the bed. 

  After a while you feel the bed dip beside you as you try to calm your breathing. He wraps his arm around you as he pulls your back flush to his chest. His breath is hot on your neck and you can feel his heart beating rapidly against you. 

  “You’re a terrible faker mi amor.” Your breath hitches in your throat as he speaks the words into your ear. 

  “You have to slow down your breathing if you want to pretend to be asleep.” His voice a low growl as he places his hand on your chest. You can feel him take slow deliberate breaths as you try to match the rise and fall of his chest. ‘así’

  “This isn’t how you lay when you're asleep.” His hand leaves your body momentarily and you miss the heat of his touch. He grabs your thigh behind the knee and pushes it gently until it’s bent. His hand slowly guides you to your stomach while his other arm supports the weight of your head.‘es mejor’

  He envelopes you under the blankets and it takes all your willpower not to roll him over and straddle him. You don’t even know him. He buries his face in your neck and sniffs again inhaling your scent. You’re practically skin to skin in your satin slip dress and his bare chest and boxers. 

  “Is this okay?” His voice barely above a whisper as you nod your head. His lips ghost over your back before he kisses your shoulder. It’s those soft sleepy kisses adorning your body until the real sleep claims you both. 

  ****

  You awake to the feel of cold sheets beside you as you feel around for him. A sliver of light hits the room from the bathroom door slightly ajar. 

  “I swear to god Jake, if you fuck this up.”

Jake -he has a name

  It’s mostly Marc speaking idle threats as you listen in to a one sided conversation. Whatever his reservations may be, it's none of your business. You do know that he would never do anything intentionally to fuck this up. 

  Your boyfriend exits the bathroom still dressed only in his black boxers. “Love…we need to talk to you about something.” 

  He sits on the edge of the bed as he rubs circles on your legs under the sheets. 

  “I know.” 

  They knew…it’s why they can’t be mad when you finally talk about the stranger. You fell in love with him a long time ago. The one they tried to keep a secret. He no longer wanted to be kept in the dark. He loves you too much. This stranger in your house. 

@chichimisaki @simpforbritgents @casa-boiardi @missdictatorme @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @melodygatesauthor @missbeverlyhills

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Dejeme ver-Let me see

Mierda quedate ahi-Shit stay there

Asi- just like that

Es mejor- that’s better

[readerthatreadsss]

Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

Steven.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

[chaithetics]

Oscar Isaac Boys with Period, Endo and PCOS Reader HCs

Pairing: Multiple Oscar Isaac characters (Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Abel Morales, Nathan Bateman, Cecil Dennis, Laurent LeClaire, Basil Stitt, Santiago Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide) x AFAB reader Word count: 2.2K Dividers by: @saradika-graphics Warnings: Periods, endometriosis, chronic pain, PCOS, non-specified shitty medical experiences, pretty much all fluff though douchebag Laurent mention sorry. No pronouns or body descriptions are used for reader. A/N: I hope you all enjoy this! It's just fluffy blainrot because the endo/post-lap hasn't been great. Reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated! 🫶 Tagging: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Steven Grant

Steven researches endometriosis, PCOS, adenomyosis and period pains. He learns about all of the different types of treatment plans. He learns about dietary changes that can help with inflammation and that other people diagnosed with these conditions have said have helped him. He goes down a rabbit hole of different PCOS recipes and dietary lifestyles, Steven ends up knowing of more PCOS blogs on every platform than you do by the end of that fixation. 

He’s so sweet, there’s been many days where you’ve come home at the end of the day and been greeted with an endearing “Love, I found this new recipe, I thought we could try it for dinner? It has the PCOS and the vegan stamps of approval!” 

Steven is also a great listener, it’s easy to tell him about how long it took to get a diagnosis, how much doctors don’t seem to care and are keen to dismiss you, to tell you birth control is your only pain management option or that you’re anxious and it’s all in your head. He’s horrified by this, he never judges or condescends and talking to him is always validating. 

During your periods, he’ll happily cuddle up with you and attentively watch all your comfort shows and films, especially the guilty pleasure ones. He loves it. Steven finds good books and podcasts for you on the days of your period when you just want to stay in bed. He’ll read to you as a distraction, you find it cute, especially when it’s a mythology or historical book, his passion and excitement drips through more when he reads those books to you. He’s a sweetheart that’s always there for you.

Abel Morales

Abel will have every appointment of yours in his calendar, written in pen, he attends with you for support and as an extra voice to advocate on your behalf. Which he absolutely does. He has no issue speaking up if doctors are ever dismissive, especially when you’re met with a cold one. He’s spent his whole life trying to be taken seriously and to perfect his image. He knows how to use his eloquent words and charming people skills to get a doctor to do their job better and for you to have better healthcare. You both know that having him, a man in the room, makes it much easier for you and your pain to be taken seriously. 

In the evenings during flare ups, Abel sits in bed and quietly holds you. He’ll press gentle and loving kisses to your forehead and the top of your head and rub your back in slow circles while you nap or are curled up on him in pain. He hates seeing you in pain but he knows being there is important for you and it’s also important for him as a partner. It never gets easier for him to see you in pain though but Abel will never complain about getting to spend more time cuddling you so tightly.

Nathan Bateman

When you first start dating you tell him you have endometriosis, it’s something that’ll come up eventually for any relationship that goes anywhere, even a casual one. You think it’s better to rip the band-aid off sooner than later. Nathan takes it in casually, like you’ve just told him what your favourite condiment is. It surprises you to say the least. 

Nathan spends the next day scouring through numerous medical journals in order to become a human encyclopaedia on endometriosis and everything relating to the uterus and other reproductive conditions. If you’ve been medically cleared safe for a TENS machine, he doesn’t even spend a full afternoon building you one and it is the best one you’ve ever used, it becomes a regular essential in your pain management kit. 

The highest ranking and most expensive medical practitioners in the field are flown out to the compound for every symptom and condition. The top pelvic physiotherapists come out, the gynaecologists. You want a dietician to try a diet to help with inflammation and bloating? They’re already on a helicopter. You want to try acupuncture? Again, they’re already on a helicopter. A massage therapist? Again, they’re already on a helicopter to the compound before you can even finish that request. There’s a room in the compound that he had modelled for you and these appointments to essentially be the fanciest hospital room you’ve ever been in. Nathan has no issue throwing money and technological innovations at any issues your uterus might give you, it’s a way of showing he cares, he’s arrogant and he can be infuriating but he loves you and will use his brain and bank account to prove it.

Jake Lockley

Whenever you have a negative experience with a doctor he happily offers to go down and take out that practitioner, sometimes he’ll make a scalpel joke even though he prefers a gun as a weapon. You’re not always sure if he’sjoking or not… Maybe it’s better to not know, plausible deniability and all. 

He absolutely pampers you, every time you have a period, whenever there’s a cramp. Jake pampers you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, which is what you are to him. He makes you hot tea, soups, runs baths, puts on your favourite and comfort films. Jake offers to do things like brushing your hair for you and loves it. Jake pampers you! PAMPERS YOU!

Laurent LeClaire

Don’t. Just don’t. Sure, he’d be cute the first time you had your period and he’d happily offer period sex as a method of relief. But after the second period or flareup he’d attempt to gaslight you and say your symptoms or your pain being psychological. Then Jake Lockley would find a way to teach him a lesson.

Santiago Garcia

Santi’s long career has made him a master in observation and strategy, Santiago seemed to have a better understanding of your body than any period tracking app you’d tried to use, and not in a Tom Wamsgams baby-trap kind of way. More of a he was better at recognising the patterns, symptoms and remembering details than you were. Especially when the pain gave you brain fog. He picks up on the slightest details and after the first couple of months of dating you, he had a fine eye for pain. Whenever he spots the start of a flare up or painful period he goes straight into that mode, he checks in with you about pain meds, he gets heating pads ready for you and cuddles up with you on the couch or in bed while you curl yourself around one, runs baths and showers. 

He has a plan in place for everything; when pain or a symptom is at a dreaded emergency department trip, when pain is flaring up. There’s a plan made for each appointment with symptoms that have been flaring up, objectives of what to get out of the appointment. Santiago learns what your boundaries and limits are, he’s big on pacing with you and not pushing yourself to do more than what you can handle or what will push you too far and lead to following pain days. He really encourages this for you, something he doesn’t do so well for himself and his knees. 

Whenever Santi tags along with you to an appointment he’s great at asking follow up questions, especially if a doctor is being a dick. Sometimes it can feel overwhelming when you’re in appointments, especially when a doctor is talking, it’s easy to forget what’s been said as soon as you get home. Santiago always remembers every word that’s been said if you ever forget or want to double check. He’s an extremely practical partner and strong support. 

Basil Stitt

Basil will have a panic attack, he’ll quickly google ‘period symptoms’, he doesn’t remember if people get cravings on their periods too or if that’s just pregnancy, or is it neither? Just something else he’s thinking of? No, he’s overthinking it. 

During said panic attack, Basil will then do an uber eats order with several different types of chocolate and he’ll run to the kitchen to see what teas he has as Google mentioned peppermint tea several times. After checking the kitchen and making a mess in the cupboard and on the countertop during his search, he’ll order another box of it anyway just to be safe. Basil also is the guy who orders three different boxes of pads and tampons because he’s not sure what you prefer and he wants you to have options. Insert ‘What’s your pussy size, babe?’ meme, that’s Basil. 

Anselm Vogelweide

All anxiety evaporates from his body when you just want to cuddle on the couch with him, watch some weird movies and order pizza and drink tea. He smiles and completely lights up when you tell him you like the flavour of the chocolate he ordered. 

Going forward there’s a cupboard under the basin in his bathroom filled with various boxes of pads, tampons, and he eventually gets to the stage where he confidently has your period orders down and preferences of products. He’s quietly but goofily proud of the fact that he now knows your pussy size.

Anselm completely understands chronic pain from his own lived experience. You never have to apologise for a bad pain day, cancelling plans because your uterus is trying to kill you, when you need to spend all day in bed or in the bath to try and relieve pain and bloating. He completely gets that, he makes sure you have the softest and freshest pillows and blankets, bubbles, epsom salts, bath bombs etc. Whatever you could wish for to make you more comfortable. You no longer feel guilty for the things you used to before relating to having a chronic illness and terrible periods. You’re understood, seen but also pampered beyond what’s comprehensible. 

Anselm immediately finds a team of the best professionals, new studies and treatments, both conventional and experimental, are quickly and quietly funded and greenlit. He offers you a world of treatment options you’d never considered or knew existed.  Anselm always has his estate stocked with pain medication, all the drugs, drugs you’ve never heard of, drugs a normal prescription definitely wouldn’t get you. There’s medications and all the different options of treatment and pain management you could imagine available at the estate, hydrotherapy pools, massage chairs, massage therapists, sensory relaxation rooms, saunas, staff are there to cook all your favourite and comfort meals. Are you in pain and sad and needing cuddles with animals? Don’t worry, Anselm has a room being turned into a barn and a third cousin twice removed bringing a petting zoo over for any cuteness needs you might have. They should be there in five minutes. 

Marc Spector

And if there somehow isn’t something there that you want, don’t worry, you just need to ask if he doesn’t read your mind first and then it’ll be moments away because Anselm can afford anything and everything and he always knows a guy.

Marc knew periods weren’t a walk in the park and were uncomfortable but it wasn’t until dating you and being around somebody with endometriosis and chronic physical pain did he realise how bad it could be. 

The first time you had an endo flare up, it had really woken him up to that reality. He couldn’t help but grimace at seeing how you transformed from your usual self to being hurled over in pain. It freaked him out and his mind had panicked over the thought of this being your reality multiple times a year. It never gets easier for him to see you in pain or discomfort but he starts to find it easier to respond and be more present during flare ups. 

He’s extremely observant, especially when it comes to you. He quickly learns how your facial expressions shift when you have a migraine, he closes all the curtains and turns the lights off. When you curl over on yourself in pain he’s there with a heat pad within minutes. When you screw your face up and say you’re nauseous he’s immediately there with a bucket on the side of the bed. During one of your worst flares when you’d been throwing up, he hadn’t even complained once. He’d helped you feel clean afterwards, there were no comments that made you feel bad and he cleaned the bucket out so it wasn’t something you’d have to worry about. Marc found it much easier to show up and do these acts than to be the verbally reassuring type, he shows up and these acts of service and care make you feel supported, loved and cared for.

Cecil Dennis

“Babe, do you wanna get high?” 

“I read about cannabis and chronic pain, there’s honestly so many articles on the internet about it.” 

Gets just as upset as you do when you're in pain, quite possibly cries more than you do whenever a flare up is happening. He'll watch films with you and he buys a CBD ointment and offers to rub it on your abdomen while you’re cuddled up in bed.

I’ll stop there, I’m sorry.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So—I’m guessing Moon also has a feature like that?” you go ahead and ask as Sun’s fit eventually fades. He straightens like a plank.

“Oh! Ah—”

“And don’t tell me to go ask him myself.”

He slowly clams up, quickly averting his gaze like he’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. A few nervous giggles escape him and a hand reaches to rub the brick supporting the back of his head. “Phooey, you’ve caught me..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[tiffanypooh]

Hohoho I've just finished your masterlist apart from Decadent, and I enjoy your stories! 🥰

And the only reason I've still not read Decadent yet is that I try to wait till it's completed before reading (if I could ever resist 😆, you’ll probably see me reading it later.)

Anyway, keep it up, my friend! 🧡💜💖

IvyStoryWeaver's Masterlist

18+blog only!!

"With You" multi-chapter || ongoing || Moon Boys-centric (Marc/Steven/Jake) || 18+

"Moonglow" one-shot: 805 words || Moon Boys-centric (Marc/Steven,Jake is mentioned)

"We Shouldn't" one-shot: 453 words || Steven Grant-centric || 18+

"On My Knees" Part 1 (fluff, can be read alone, without part 2) 1.2k words || Steven Grant-centric

"On My Knees" Part 2 (nsfw, continues from part 1) 2.1k words || Steven Grant-centric || 18+

Steven Grant Oblivious Roommate Headcanons Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"The Box" (Fluff edition) one-shot: 2.4k words || Marc Spector-centric

"The Box" (NSFW edition) one-shot 1.5k words || Marc Spector-centric || 18+

"Saw You Standing There" one-shot: 888 words || Marc Spector-centric

"Purple" one-shot: 1187 words || Marc Spector-centric

"Spector Acts of Service" (Marc Headcanons)

Marc Spector Moodboard

Jake Lockley Dance Instructor Headcanons

Jake Lockley Moodboard

"Decadent" multi-chapter || ongoing || Miguel O'Hara-centric || 18+

"I Promise" one-shot: 2k words || Miguel O'Hara-centric || 18+

"Upside Down" one-shot: 1250 words || Miguel O'Hara-centric

"The Only One" multi-chapter || ongoing || Poe Dameron-centric

"Relief" one-shot: 1.7k words || Poe Dameron-centric || 18+

dividers by saradika

[jake-g-lockley]

City Lights (Steven Grant x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Warnings: mentions of Donna, Steven is too cute in this, I will swoon to death for that man A/N: So there was this boy, the best memories make the sharpest swords but I would like to turn any happy memory I have into something that you guys can enjoy. I love y'all <3 (P.s. Whatchu think of the lil collage I made ehehhehe)

Word Count: 1.4k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face as you stared longingly at the tall man in mismatched clothes who  stood hunched before a crying child. He kept a respectful distance but let the child cling onto his hand as the little boy sobbed for his mother. Steven Grant, the gift shoppist, produced a tiny plushie of Taweret from behind him. The hippo goddess seemed to bring the child a little peace as he started to sniff and rub his nose with the back of his hand. 

Steven tousled the child’s hair and started to tell him something. You didn’t need to hear what Steven was saying to know what he was telling the kid. As he knelt in front of the child, you were 100% sure he was telling him the story of the goddess Taweret as his hands started moving in animation. 

You averted your eyes just as you saw the kid’s mother hurrying towards him. Any longer and you would’ve either had two exploded ovaries or worse, you could’ve started drooling like a Saint Bernard all over the perfect polished floors of the museum. A few seconds later, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turn to see big tired eyes boring into yours, perfectly glinting in the dim lighting. You couldn’t help but smile at them, forcing yourself to tear your own away from them before you get lost in the deep chocolate goodness. “Hey.” the British drawl wrapped around you like a warm blanket. “Hey.” you smiled, blinking up at him. “So, uh, we're still up for dinner today love, or…?” Steven scratched the back of his neck as he leaned towards you, a timid smile gracing his beautiful face. “Of course, Steven.” you quickly say as your hand pats his strangely strong bicep. Steven’s timid smile grew suddenly confident as he flashed you his pearly whites, and you were sure that you might just topple over from the force of it. Instead you give him a big smile back and squeeze his bicep, taking a step away. You guys were not going on a date, it was just the ordinary weekly dinner you had scheduled with Steven. You certainly didn’t look forward to the day, that's certainly why you didn’t check your phone about a hundred times to see what day it was over the past week. Your dinners with Steven were the best, it was so wonderful yet took so little effort. You both had found a little pizzeria down the road from the museum and it sold the most wonderful handcrafted pizza and had a great selection of wine (you were definitely a cocktail girl but you loved stealing wine from Steven). You gazed at the glow of the city lights as Steven chatted away about the stock issue that they were having in the museum. “I keep telling Donna that we don’t need to keep ordering the stupid sweets because the kids don’t actually like spending their penny on overpriced museum sweets anymore…love, am I boring you?” Steven suddenly said. You swore you turned bright red at his statement as you ripped your gaze away from the lights. “Steven! No, you’re not, I just got distracted. The lights, look! They look like fairy dust and everything seems so calm today.” You blabbered away and watch as a smile grew on Steven’s face. You frowned at Steven’s wine that he was swirling in his right hand. You bit your lip and when you looked back up at Steven’s face, you realised that he was already looking at you, his smile turning into a smug smirk. “I know you’re gonna ask for it, no matter how much you hate it.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You huff and reach out for the glass before bringing it up to your lips and taking a sip. Your eyes widened and Steven’s smirk became more pronounced. The wine you sipped tasted like no other. You had never tasted anything that went down so smooth before and you were weirdly delighted by it. “I asked for the more expensive kind today.” Steven said while he leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms and legs. “What's the occasion?” you asked curiously, raising your eyebrows as you carefully set the glass down on the table. “You’re right, today does seem a little more special.” Steven’s voice dropped an octave lower as his eyes now stared at the lights you were looking at moments ago. You rested your chin on the palms of your hands and stared longingly at Steven’s jaw and exposed neck. You wondered what it would be like to wake up in the morning with your face in his neck, breathing in his familiar comforting scent, legs entangled, your hands brushing his soft fluffy curls. You long to press soft kisses on his sharp jaw, you long to see marks blossom on the nape of his beautiful neck, but most importantly, you longed for his presence. 

As the night progressed, you too ordered a glass of wine as you didn’t want to keep stealing Steven’s. Your head was swimming happily and you had no thoughts or worries, the only thing running through your brain was how pretty the man in front of you was. You were intoxicated with how the light in the restaurant casted a glow on Steven that made him more ethereal than usual. You never knew how pretty someone could look like but you also knew that his kindness was the prettiest part of him. He was the most genuine person you knew and you were positive that he did not have a bad bone in his body. His heart was so pure that you just wanted to hold it, protect it. But Steven Grant was so perfect that he healed something of yours that he never broke. Now Steven and you were walking along the river Thames and trying not to giggle as you helped to steady each other. “Can’t believe you paid the bill when I thought you ran off to the bathroom.” You gently slapped his bicep and hiccuped. “I am a gentleman.” Steven tilted his chin up with a huff which made you giggle. Now what you didn’t notice was how hard Steven was straining to not kiss you silly as he watched you hang onto him like a baby koala. He had always wanted to kiss you, your beautiful smile the first thing that pops up in his head in the morning since the day that he met you. He tried to listen as you babbled away about your friend’s boyfriend issues but he was just intoxicated by the animated way your hands would move as you talked away without a fear of the world. Not too long later, you slumped on a bench and pulled Steven down with you. A strong breeze huffed through the air, which made you shiver and shift closer to Steven, which he didn’t mind. You turned to look at him and he was already looking at you, his face illuminated by the city lights and you thought he looked nothing more than an angel in disguise. In a moment of uninhibited courage, you suddenly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Steven's lips, your heart pounding with both excitement and fear. To your surprise, Steven's response was not one of shock or hesitation, but of eager reciprocation, as he pulled you closer with a tenderness that took your breath away as you gasped into his mouth. His lips were so soft and you could taste the pizza and wine you just had as your hand rested and caressed his jaw. You pulled away and smiled the second Steven’s face came into view. He had a dopey smile on his face that made your heart skip a few beats as you searched his eyes. 

"What took us so long to do that?" you whispered, unable to tear my gaze away from his.

"Wanted to wait for the right time, my love" Steven murmured, his voice soft and tender as he rested his forehead against yours.

In that moment, amidst the quiet of the night and the wine-induced haze, you knew that kissing Steven was definitely the best decision you had ever made in your life. You sighed and kissed Steven’s cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder, admiring the city lights that blossomed along with your love for him. 

Tagging:

@fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @violet-19999 @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @britishscum @spookyysilverr @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @pimosworld @anonymously35 @nerdreader @vintagebunni @marylovesdilfs @jakelockleysdoll @pigeonmama @sarveshishwarishsuta

[deyisacherry]

AYO i'm joining the "kick soleil's 4ss" club

GO MISUTAMUUN!!!

@venomous-qwille hi hope u like this silly thing *runs*

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

solomon couldn't stand your pact marks.

well, no, that wasn't the right way to put it. he was proud, even jealous of your pacts. they were one of the many admirable things about you! he just hated... looking at them. he knew what other people thought when they saw them.

when one would see those marks on your skin for the first time, they would be able to get a glimpse at your relationship with the brothers. one of trust and respect, gathered from just a glance. meanwhile, one would have to be told about his and your relationship. one look at you couldn't decipher all the time you two have shared together, filled with chatting between classes, practicing magic for hours, and endless love.

at first, solomon tried to mitigate this with his own marks upon your skin. wearing lipstick as he placed a kiss on your neck, a few stray bite marks from your time together at night. but those, while fun, were temporary. and solomon needed something permanent.

why not a ring?

(Hope you don't mind me adding on, anon. Thank you for the delicious meal! Literally so honored to read your beautiful work! 🥹)

Getting the ring was the easy part. Getting you away from the brothers long enough to propose...was not.

The lengths Solomon went through to be able to have a private moment with you might put him in a record book as the three realms' most whipped man. With the mask of his "shady" persona secured, he lets his silver tongue weave him through these seven obstacles, the sin of each dripping from it with only you on his mind.

Swallowing his pride, breathing in greed, spitting out envy...his wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth. A vicious rinse, repeat until he's either buttered them up or grated them down until they finally gave in. But he did it. With the day cleared of any interruptions, his plans were set in motion.

He decides to have a redo of your very first date, flying you up and walking in the sky amongst the stars. It's just the two of you against the ever inky black sky of the Devildom, a place that has become synonymous with your presence. Only this time, there are no surprise gales, no surprise drones -- just the surprise of a velvet heart-shaped box in the inside pocket of his coat.

Solomon brings up fond memories of your time together as you both near the spot he's picked to pop the question. He's filled with a giddy glee that soon you'll have something that binds you to him, something to show the world you're his.

Still, there's a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that you could say no. That perhaps he's not worthy. Does he deserve to have matching rings adorned on his and your fingers forevermore? Does he dare stand by your side as your equal when you are, in fact, so far above him?

He decides it's best not to dwell on such thoughts as this is meant to be a happy occasion, as long as all goes well.

Your feet touch the ground once he lowers you both on top of a cliff that overlooks the Devildom, the moon hanging brightly above. As you take in the magnificent sight, he lowers himself on one knee behind you, waiting with bated breath for you to turn on your own volition.

The moment you do, he knows he'll have to keep this memory stored away with his magic, just staring in awe. The moon is angled just right that it shines right behind your head like a halo. Your eyes are as wide as saucers while your jaw is slacked. With the way you look, he truly wonders if he's in the Celestial Realm.

Nervously, Solomon begins his improvised speech after clearing his throat, "my dearest apprentice, it is with great honor that I'm knelt before you tonight. I have dreamt of this moment more than I'd care to admit, yet I never thought it'd come true. But here I am, willing to give you all of me, if you're willing to give me all of you. You are the sun to my moon, the air in my lungs, the very reason why I believe I've lived so long. I was always meant to find you and work side by side to protect the human realm together. And most importantly, to love you. So, please do this old sorcerer a favor...by marrying me..."

He pulls out the ring box, opening it to offer you the ring within. The blessed box is shaking as he trembles, waiting patiently for your answer.

Happy tears spring from his eyes once you say, "yes." The ring is carefully slipped onto your finger, and a single word comes to Solomon's mind.

Mine.

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

cloud + star au palasaki, inspired by @jube-art's stunning sun + moon au payneland art, with the background's colour scheme shamelessly stolen from @mellxncollie's amazing colour palettes!

the first is their standard embodiments; the second is a stormy crystal and niko's official look :)

Summary:

“So, what do you do around here?” Niko asked, when all the introductions had been handled, and she and the cloud goddess – Crystal, a pretty name for a pretty goddess – stood just within sight of Edwin and his sun god suitor. After all, being chosen as a chaperone for this celestial courting was the highest honor imaginable – unless you were the moon god’s best, and maybe only, friend. Or not anymore, by the look of Charles’ easy smile and the loosening line of Edwin’s shoulders, visible even through the veil. Niko sure hoped so. It would be nice for Edwin to get a friend out of this union, at the very least. She hoped for more, but then, she’d always been a romantic.

Or: The star and cloud goddesses must chaperone the courting sun and moon gods. However shall they pass the time?

@palasakiweek day 5: free day

[mochimoqa]

The Climax Problem

Literally thought that this was so funny and I wanted to make it a small story lol

Also, this was basically from this post by @faretheeoscar

This is the link to the original post! ^^

Gender neutral Y/n x Steven Grant

Warning: 18+ Mentioning of climaxing (aka: c*mming), some inappropriate jabs here and there

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

We all know of how innocent Steven is and crazy for you. But him releasing during a make out session? That's crazier.

You cupped his face as you kissed him passionately. Your tongue fighting with his and moaning into each other's mouths. You gently pulled his curls as he moaned from the action.

The passion needed to die down as you needed to go to work.

"I gotta go, baby." You pecked his lips and he responded with a small whines.

"A- Alright, love! I'll be waiting for you!" He waved goodbye to you as you waved back and closed the door.

Steven sighed as he looked at his pants. The noticeable bulge in his pants as he unzipped them and revealed a patch of his seed in his boxers.

"Bloody hell..." Steven mumbled to himself.

He got up and took off his pants and boxers to the dirty laundry. He walked to the restroom and looked at the mirror.

"Why do I even do that..." He massaged his temples.

"Looks like someone has a hard time to stop cumming." Marc looked at Steven in the mirror with his little smirk.

"Look, I just can't help it...! Y/n makes me feel so good! I- I- I just can't help it!"

Steven turned around facing at another mirror staring at his reflection.

"You gotta ask some advice for that problem of yours, hermano." Jake crossed his arms and cocked a eyebrow.

"You don't think I know that, Jake?"

He sighed as he cleaned himself with a wet towel.

"Have you ever tried to masterbate before? That could help you, Steven." Marc chuckled.

"What!? Marc! You know I could never do that! And I'm gonna wait til I marry Y/n...! How could you even think of that!?

"Steven, you poor sad little virgin." Marc sighed.

"What about you go on reddit and go to r/Advice?" Jake smirked.

"Reddit...? No, I shouldn't..."

"It's the only thing to help you." Jake chuckled lightly.

"D'oh... alright..." Steven sighed as he grabbed some new boxers and put them on.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

"Steven, I'm home!!" You placed your bag on the floor as you took off your shoes. You walked into your shared bedroom and see him laying down.

You laid down next to him and peppered his face with small kisses.

"Hi." You smiled lightly and played with his curls.

"Hey..." He smiled lightly but then faltered to a small frown.

"Aww... what's wrong...?" You cupped his face.

"It's uhm..." He sighed. "Love, uhm... during out make out sessions... I uh... I cum."

You frozed when you heard that.

"Like, pre-cum or...?"

"No, like full-on climax... and it's embarrassing... just instantly releasing during a make out session...! And I went to Reddit for advise... I- I just know that you're gonna judge me..."

"Steven, that's not embarrassing at all... to be honest, I find that really flattering."

"Really...?"

"Yes, it makes me feel good. It let's me know of how good I can make you really feel..." You leaned into him and gently kissed him softly.

He pulled away and smiled.

"Thank you, love..."

This got me cracking up 💀

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this :]