#sytem | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m00nsbaby · 7 months

Text

Violent things.

Steven Grant + Marc Spector + Jake Lockley x F! reader. Part I. (Out of 3.)

Tags & warnings. Lots of talks about death, violence, abuse. Inspired by Moon Knight's 5 episode x Corpse Bride. (+ this one is for my delulu girls since the reader is a bit delulu lol.)

Word count. 6.2k

Summary.

"Oh man!" What an interesting accent. "Wow, these meds are really amazing," he whispered as he tried to catch his breath. Hah, he did that too. "I thought I was dead." He hadn't even looked at you properly; he was just suddenly relieved to be in the presence of someone else. "Oh, no," you cleared your throat. "You are dead."

Each person had a different 'other side.'

Except you. Or well, technically, you had it, but it had been a long time since you'd been in it. In fact, apart from the bright colors, you couldn't remember much of it.

You'd been in excessively bright representations of what people imagine as 'heaven,' parties with mead, and you'd even tried candies that would have turned your tongue green if you'd eaten them in life.

Although, of course, that's how the most common ones looked; there were stranger ones too. People seeing themselves in their tiny cat-filled apartment or wandering the halls of their old school. Either way, it was fine because it was only temporary while they reached their destination.

Everyone except you.

And a few others who had the misfortune of lacking emotional intelligence even in death.

Literally.

It's okay, though. Over the years, you got used to this 'life' and the idea that you would never see him again, although getting used to it didn't mean you stopped missing him.

Stopped thinking about him.

Stopped wanting him back.

Anyway, work kept you busy because, yes, even in death, you couldn't escape the damn bureaucracy. You didn't have a real name for your boss because she also looked different to each person; to you, her face was very similar to that of an old friend, even though you couldn't specify which one.

She took pity on you somehow. She explained your situation, although it took you a lot of energy and time to understand it. She did everything possible to keep you from becoming one of those lost souls who simply roamed around here. She also pulled you back onto the path when you began to stray.

"There are 3."

You frowned.

"What do you mean, there are 3?"

"There are 3." she shrugged as you walked through the corridors of the psychiatric void. This was a new scenario, and your clothes were different too. Something more modern, you didn't recognize it as something from your time.

Yes, a few years weren't that long, but fashion moved disgustingly fast in the world of the living.

"Do you think you can handle them?" Should you mention to the boss that she looks like a chatty hippo, or is that the kind of thing you keep quiet to maintain good working relations?

You bit your lip and then nodded.

"Good luck." Her mocking smile was never a good sign.

Before you could object, she had disappeared. You took a deep breath; those were funny expressions that had stuck with you even now that you didn't have to breathe for real.

Your shoes echoed in the empty halls as you headed for what you assumed was the main entrance.

The door opened by itself.

Or rather, it opened before you even extended your hand.

"Whoa." You muttered, your eyes widening at the guy in front of you.

A rebellious curl fell over his forehead, and his huge brown eyes were even wider in surprise. He was dressed appropriately for the situation; it looked like a uniform for a psychiatric ward patient, and although it was loose-fitting, you would swear you could see his muscles from miles away.

And he, on the other hand, practically screamed in your face.

"Shit!" He jumped in place, bringing a hand to his chest as he laughed in disbelief.

Oh yeah, there was a bloodstain right on his chest. Nothing to worry about, not anymore at least; once you died, you technically couldn't die twice.

Although finding a functional washing machine in any of the many 'beyonds' was trickier than it seemed. If this Marc Spector guy was in the same situation as you, it was quite likely that he would spend the rest of eternity with that stain on his clothes.

Unless the boss offered him a job.

It would be wonderful to have him here forever.

Were you overthinking? Probably.

"Oh man!" What an interesting accent. "Wow, these meds are really amazing," he whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

Hah, he did that too.

"I thought I was dead." He hadn't even looked at you properly; he was just suddenly relieved to be in the presence of someone else.

"Oh, no," you cleared your throat. "You are dead."

Your voice sent shivers down his spine, and when he finally bothered to look at you more closely, you could see a touch of fear in his expression.

You were used to it by now, so why did it hurt this time?

"You're joking."

"Maybe if there was someone else to see me lying to you, it would be more fun, don't you think?" You tried to joke, but the poor guy seemed on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

That was a good sign; maybe you could keep him after all.

Marc pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he tried to regain his composure.

"Do you expect me to believe this is the afterlife?"

"No, not the afterlife, an afterlife. This one is yours, well, for now, this is the path."

He fell silent, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as if his body still needed oxygen.

You waited.

And waited.

But he never said anything, so you caught his attention by clearing your throat.

"Welcome, dear… traveler," you murmured as you clumsily searched for your notes in your pockets.

Ah, there they are.

"I will be in charge of…" You continued reading. "Guiding you on your way to…" How could you call this? Heaven? Valhalla? Mictlan? "What comes next."

Marc looked at you as if you were crazy, and you had no choice but to continue.

"It's a place that's difficult for the human mind to comprehend, so for you, it's something more…" You looked around with a furrowed brow. "Familiar."

He scoffed, his tone full of irony.

"I really am crazy," he muttered in a whisper.

"Together, we will traverse the 10 steps that will lead you to eternal rest." Your arm moved awkwardly up and down. What a stupid choreography your boss had given you. "Although," you stepped out of character. "Sometimes they are doors, and it seems that will be the case this time."

"Who are you?" He asked out of nowhere, and you swallowed hard.

"Your guide."

"Are you some kind of… Goddess? Are you God?"

You laughed, partly embarrassed, partly genuinely amused.

"I'm just your guide."

Marc had to settle for your answer.

"Are you ready?"

"Can one be ready for something like this?"

You shook your head but gave him a resigned smile. You felt sorry for him, as well as for all those who passed through your hands, but at least you did your part by taking them to what you would never know.

You offered him your hand, and hesitantly, he took it.

The contact with his skin made you swear that your heart was beating again.

You took a slow step through the corridors of the psychiatric ward with him behind you, his fingers gradually clinging to you. This was the first time in a long time that Marc allowed himself to be afraid, even when his thoughts were divided between his desire to cling to life and, on the other hand, that 'finally' feeling that had been intoxicating him for the past 10 years, ever since Roro left.

A few minutes of walking, and you knew by pure intuition which was the first door.

Unfinished business.

The first scene was… Something.

No one likes to witness the way they died, but much less what happens afterward. Have you ever heard that the last sense you lose is your hearing? Marc could clearly hear Layla scream his name just after the gunshot.

Or at least, his body managed to register the sound because he didn't remember it, but you could clearly see the scene at this moment.

"You left something unfinished." Your voice was as gentle as you could make it as you surrounded his body on the ground.

A strange feeling overcame you as you watched the curly-haired girl kneel beside him.

Holding him, begging him to come back.

Not sadness or pity, as it usually happened; you felt… uncomfortable? Annoyed?

Marc released your hand to get closer, appreciating the scene up close, and you knew how much he wished to touch Layla when his hand moved in her direction, trying to get her attention.

"Layla?" He whispered, his voice broken, his attention focused solely on her. He didn't even look at his body, which was slowly giving in. He didn't realize how she cradled him between her cheeks and kissed his lips one last time just now.

Your stomach churned; fortunately, you had already forgotten when was the last time you had ingested something.

"Baby?" He asked louder, and you knew it was time to intervene.

"She can't hear you," you whispered from behind, only able to observe Marc's back. The way his body contracted and suffered from small spasms due to crying.

Isn't it curious how all those things become muscle memory? Your breathing shouldn't be a problem when you weren't in your physical body, yet these things still happened.

"What were you doing here?" Your gaze wandered through the darkness inside the pyramid, your steps careful as you approached the open tomb of God knows who. A disgusted expression appeared on your lips at the sight of the mummified corpse.

Everything was better when you pretended that maybe you didn't really look like this.

Marc gave an ironic laugh, still crying, but you decided to give him space.

"I was trying to save the world."

You scoffed. 'Well, to each their own,' you thought as your fingers traced the edge of the tomb.

Hopefully, they buried you in something nice and expensive too.

"This might hold you here; we still don't know what will happen next because it's very recent."

"No." He interrupted, still kneeling in front of himself.

It turns out that the last thing his body registered was the way Layla grabbed his chest, taking something that rested on it afterward. The girl stood up, still with a broken heart but doing her best not to collapse.

You recognized that expression quite well.

"She'll take care of it."

Everything around him became blurry, apparently, that was the point at which he stopped fighting.

Marc slowly got to his feet, his eyes red, and he sniffed repeatedly. If you had the chance, maybe you'd tell him that he didn't need to do that, nothing would come out of his nose.

He looked good, though, even after getting shot, he still seemed attractive.

The good thing is that you still had 9 different opportunities to make him stay with you, but there was still one question. What did the boss mean when she said there were 3? An administrative error or something like that?

"She'll figure it out," he sounded sure as he pressed his nose bridge and took deep breaths. "She'll fix it."

"Then this is closed." You shrugged. Over time, you learned which dead ones to trust and which not to. Maybe Marc wasn't so wrong.

Nine opportunities.

"Congratulations." You offered him your hand, and he took it again.

That had to mean something, right?

You didn't pay much attention to the way he looked back, as if that would give him one last look at Layla. She had been gone for a while now. In fact, in the world of the living, this had probably happened hours ago.

The good thing (for him) is that apparently, she hadn't died yet.

Well, for you too, so you wouldn't find her wandering around. Romances that not even death could separate were the worst.

No more was said as you guided him through the passageways of the old pyramids as if you were an expert archaeologist, or perhaps an amateur with a lot of free time. One step forward from both of you, and everything around him looked different.

Vengeance.

"I have to tell you now." The cold streets of New York made you feel alive, especially in the short skirt you were wearing. The breeze cooled your legs and tousled your hair.

This seemed more common, even in the seedy side of the city. Apparently, Marc had been a normal person occasionally in his life, not someone who went on pyramid expeditions for fun.

"You won't be able to get revenge on anyone by being here." You walked ahead, trying to find the next door. It wasn't worth wasting time on this. "Sometimes divine justice serves in your favor and takes care of them, but it's not worth staying for a trivial matter."

And you knew it well.

When Marc's silence seemed suspicious, you looked back.

His clothes had also changed; he was wearing a leather jacket and a rather peculiar cap. It was gray, and it fit him ridiculously well.

He looked at you with wide eyes, his hand still holding yours.

"Cariño?" That accent was new. Did Marc like to play someone else occasionally at night? It wouldn't surprise you from someone like him.

Weird, like you.

Different, perhaps.

"What am I doing here?"

"Oh no, are you one of those?" You confronted him, one hand still holding his, and the other going straight to his face. You opened one of his eyes wider with your fingers, and he stayed still.

Had he drunk too much the night before or something? Jake didn't experience these things, never.

He didn't lose track of time; he didn't dissociate or lose control of his body; he didn't forget, and he didn't sleep.

This didn't make sense, at least not for him.

"You are dead, Marc," your words made his stomach churn. "I'm guiding you, we're only on the second level." Vapor came out of your mouth as if it were freezing, and your body still had that natural warmth that one emits when they are alive.

He furrowed his brow, looking at you as if he were seeing a ghost.

Well, that's what he was doing, but when you're dead, you don't have the right to see other dead people like this.

"I'm not… I'm not Marc."

Oh.

The boss's words made a bit more sense now. So, were they really brothers? Twins perhaps? Or whatever they were called when they were three.

The poor guy seemed about to have a crisis, very similar to Marc when you first found him.

"Jake Lockley." Your mind clicked, as it always did when you had these encounters with the souls you guided. A hazard of the job, there were things you knew and things you didn't.

He nodded slowly.

"Listen, sweetheart." He slowly released your hand, and the gesture didn't please you. I mean, if you couldn't keep Marc, maybe it could be one of the other two.

"I don't know what kind of joke you're playing," he walked past you while searching in his pocket for what seemed to be keys. "You're beautiful, and maybe we had a pretty fun night, but it's likely that what we have won't work, especially when you're calling me by another name and trying to play those little mind games with me, which, by the way, don't affect me in the least…"

Jake bumped into someone as he moved away from you clumsily.

"Sorry," he muttered, still confused. The other person ignored him, but when he looked back, his eyes widened in surprise. "¿Qué mierda?" You heard him mumble as he stumbled, sitting on the pavement.

Turns out Jake had bumped into himself.

And you suppressed the 'I told you so' smile.

"See?" You watched him pass you as well, and after a few seconds, you decided to approach him, extending your hand.

He looked at it in silence before taking it and getting to his feet.

"You're not playing, right?"

"Nope," you let go of his hand as you inspected his face. He looked so similar to Marc, yet so different at the same time.

"Are we dead?"

"I'm a little deader than you, but yes."

He bit his lower lip, and you saw him take off his cap and run a hand through his disheveled curls, more out of desperation than aesthetics.

He took a deep breath several times, more than you could count, and looked back. You saw the other Jake moving away in the crowd, and without saying anything, you turned to follow him without losing track.

Jake had to snap out of his crisis to follow you.

And him.

"Is that it? Are you not going to give me an explanation?" He hurriedly walked, doing his best not to bump into anyone until he realized that no one seemed to be affected by his shoves, not even moving them.

"We can't lose sight of you."

"This has to be a bad dream."

Maybe you liked Marc more than him.

"It's not a dream, Jake." You let out a deep sigh as you continued walking behind him. "You died, Marc did too, and…"

"Steven?"

"Right."

You finally turned to look at him when Jake from his memory stopped in front of a car.

It was a nice car.

"I still don't know what happened to you and Steven, but Marc got shot right…" You touched the center of his chest, and he didn't show how your touch made him shiver. "Here."

He wasn't sure if it was worth explaining to you right now that if Marc died, he would drag them both down with him.

"And who are you?"

"Your guide." You gave up; you would have to go through this again.

"Are you a product of my imagination?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Why do you look like one of my one-night stands?"

"I look like this all the time, actually," you looked down; this outfit was terribly uncomfortable. "Except for the criminally short skirt."

The sound of the door made you look forward. Apparently, the other Jake got into the car when you were distracted.

You opened the rear door of the car and looked at the confused guy in front of you.

"Get in."

And he obeyed; you got in afterward.

They were silent for most of the way, neither of you knew exactly where you were going because Jake had vague memories of this particular memory, if that made sense.

He had traveled this same road so many times for the same purpose that this could be any day of his life.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Your voice broke the silence, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"I was interrogating some guys in Cairo."

Ah, well, it seemed that he was just as strange as Marc.

"I see."

Jake somehow saw himself as the most stable of the three; he had learned to deal with the blows of life that he was forced to take to protect Marc and Steven from them.

But nothing had prepared him for the idea of failing them.

For failing them so horribly.

If he kept thinking, he'd go crazy. Even more.

You didn't know how long you had been here; everything seemed more tedious when Jake decided he didn't want to chat with you, or anyone, for that matter.

You assumed it was shock or something similar, and as for what this scenario meant, you understood why revenge wouldn't retain him.

Because Jake got rid of everyone who got in his way. To him or to Marc.

Both of you watched him drive, dispose of bodies, clean his clothes, and repeat as many times as necessary.

Well, he observed with a disgusted expression, and he took the liberty of covering your eyes with his hand. Well, it wasn't anything you hadn't seen before; apparently, the innocent face always gave the wrong impression.

The night ended with him crawling heavily to his apartment, tired, regretful, and often injured.

You looked at him beside you. Why did he seem so distraught by his own actions?

"So, can we cross revenge off your list?" You tried to joke when the expression on his face weighed on your chest. He didn't hear you; he kept looking at the path he had taken to the apartment.

If this was a divine way to make him regret his actions in life, it was quite functional, to be honest.

"And now?" His eyes fixed on you.

And you looked back at him.

"Do you still have the keys?" You pointed to the car.

He searched his pockets, and the keys jingled. Without saying anything, he opened the front passenger door for you to get in.

The gesture made you bite your lower lip to avoid smiling.

He got in afterward.

"Where are we going?" He started the car, and the roar of the engine added an extra note to the pain he was carrying at the moment.

He wasn't going to drive his car ever again?

Driving was the only thing that brought him peace, and the car was the only thing that belonged to him and only him. In fact, the vehicle was in his name, as was his driver's license. They were the only legal documents with Jake's name on them, even if it had cost him a fortune to bribe those in charge to get them without having to present any other proof that there was nothing suspicious behind them.

They were the only proof that Jake was real.

"I don't know, you'll feel it when we get there," you murmured without bothering to roll up the window; you just let the breeze hit you as the car started moving.

He didn't believe you, but apparently you weren't lying, his instinct was guiding him through the empty and dark streets of New York.

His home.

After a few minutes, Jake took a moment to look at you while you seemed completely absorbed in the detailed memories of Jake, who seemed to have even memorized the signs that adorned the streets he was driving through.

"What are you?" The question sounded a bit more offensive than he would have liked.

"Your guide."

"Are you sure you're not some kind of fantasy of mine?"

Was he flirting with you or insulting you? Either way, you smiled.

"None of that," you cleared your throat and finally looked at him. "I'm at the point where you are right now, and I'm staying here."

Should he inquire further, or were manners no longer as necessary when you were dead?

"For how long?"

"Huh?"

"You seem to know a lot about this; how long have you been like this?"

The way you shrugged was enough of an answer for him.

You had to close your eyes for a few seconds when you realized the effect the question had on you. You usually didn't talk about yourself, especially not with the people you guided. They were always more concerned about themselves, and with good reason; the boss knew well what had happened to you, but having someone directly ask about the situation left a disgusting taste in your mouth.

"My dear."

"Huh?" You looked at him immediately, furrowing your brow.

"What?"

"Did you say something?"

"I didn't say anything." The most similar you came to a normal conversation began when Jake released the wheel for a few seconds, raising both hands to declare himself innocent of whatever you were accusing him of.

"I heard you."

"I didn't say anything, I swear on my… death, I guess." He ran a hand through his chest, furrowing his brow.

Even with a bad feeling, you smiled.

And he did too.

Things were more fun when you collected as many jokes as you could about being dead.

"Alright." Your head returned to its position against the seat, and your gaze returned to the outside.

Jake looked at you for a few extra seconds; he knew that smile well.

"I think I can get us out of here," he thought, hoping that Marc and Steven could hear him.

Strong emotions or feelings.

The movement of the car eventually stopped, and you could no longer feel the leather under your fingers; you recognized the grass immediately.

Your eyes were forced open when a couple of children ran past you, laughing and pushing each other. You were beginning to feel tired, even though you were less than halfway there.

You sighed, your body feeling heavy as you stood up.

A couple was enjoying a homemade BBQ, even though the clouds seemed threatening to ruin it.

"Jake? Marc?" You looked around.

Ah, there he was.

Near the children's mother, looking closely at her with a radiant smile. It wasn't difficult to guess that he was Steven; his messy hair and tired eyes didn't resemble the features of Marc or Jake. Well, they did, but not really. Does that make sense?

Finally, one of the three didn't look at you in fear or confusion.

"Oh Gods, hiya!" His accent made you smile, and you waved back in greeting, approaching him as he was only a few steps away.

"You must be Steven."

"And you must be my guide." As if it were a friendly arrangement, he extended his hand, and you shook it gently, enjoying the contact. "Jake explained to me."

Was there a gap between door and door that you didn't witness for them to have a chance to talk? Well, you'd ask later.

"You seem calm."

"I'm totally freaking out on the inside."

You laughed again and nodded. You liked Steven, you liked him more than the other two.

"What level is this?"

"Third." Your attention shifted to the couple next to you, the woman's huge brown eyes told you in seconds that she was the mother of the three.

That was something they had in common, those lost-puppy eyes.

"Strong emotions or feelings." You took a step closer to her, your eyes scanning her face for more familiarities among the triplets and her.

The little wrinkles at the edges of their eyes when they smiled also seemed to come from her. And the curls definitely came from their father.

"Well, I love my mom." He seemed just as distracted by the scene as you were.

You didn't mention that love, at this point, wasn't one of the emotions that could retain you.

The situation wasn't new to you; there was almost always a familiar memory here. You didn't count friends separately because time had shown you that friends were the family you chose; the lines blended easily in those cases.

Maybe this was the reason why you would stay with one of them, and with just 5 minutes exchanged, Steven seemed like a good choice.

The children ran by your side again, and Steven's attention was completely stolen by them. You tilted your head to the side with tenderness and a slight curiosity.

"They're not ready yet; you can go play for a while, understood?" The taller boy nodded, stopping right in front of his brother, who ended up crashing into him.

Both laughed.

"Is it you?" You pointed to the younger one.

Steven seemed as distant from the situation as you. He shook his head slowly before looking at you as if he wanted an explanation. It took him a few seconds to be able to murmur.

"I don't… I don't remember."

"Marc?" The woman called, causing an amusing scene between the two children, Steven, and you since everyone turned to look at her expectantly. "Take care of Roro, please."

Roro?

"Do you have another brother?" Your voice came out so low that not even poor Steven could hear it.

It was a silent agreement in the way you followed him while he continued to follow the children with his mind in a tangle of thoughts. Was this what Marc had been hiding so eagerly?

You could swear a shiver ran through you from head to toe when your eyes settled on the cave the two children were heading towards, and the thunderclap sealed the deal on the bad omens.

You had witnessed these scenes before. When someone was about to die, it always felt like this. Being sensitive to death was one of the quirks that came with the job.

"Steven?"

He didn't even look at you.

"Lads?"

No answer, obviously.

"It's… It's dangerous, they shouldn't…" He seemed to have lost his breath. "They are going to..."

And you nodded slowly.

"I know."

The small steps were only a few meters away from you as the rain intensified. Both you and Steven were getting wet.

"Let me…" He was never able to form a complete sentence. "I know I can…"

You knew he couldn't, but you still followed him into the cave.

You walked in darkness for a very short time, with "I want my mommy" echoing in your ears over and over again.

The cave seemed to end in the living room of what you guessed was their house. Both of you arrived dripping wet, Steven with red eyes after what he had just witnessed.

You were still wondering what role he played in all of this.

Had Marc's emotional burden somehow reached him? After all, he was also their brother, or at least it seemed like it.

You stopped abruptly when both encountered Steven's mother, hands on her hips, her cheeks red with anger. Steven jerked when she yelled the words, "This is all your fault."

Everything was happening too fast, even for you, who had learned the art of controlling the emotions of the moment. It was usually the boss who handled these kinds of situations.

You were never strong enough.

You moved past the scene, your hand learned to Steven's wrist as you directed him upstairs. He couldn't stop looking as he moved awkwardly, stumbling over his own feet.

"It's this way," you whispered, leading him into the room.

You sighed calmly when finally the silence enveloped you. Inside, one of the children was playing alone. The scene tugged at your heartstrings a little more, but hey, at least there was no one screaming.

"I must be remembering wrong," he whispered as a last hope while he sat on the floor, defeated. He took a seat in front of the child. "It must be Marc's doing."

You pursed your lips, deciding not to say anything as you watched his hands tremble. This kind of thing wasn't in the manual.

"Maybe so," you gave him false hope before knocks on the door diverted both of your attention.

"Open the damn door, Marc!"

Another shiver, as horrible as the first one.

"It's not my mom, it's not my mom," the child whispered, covering his hands. Steven and you could do nothing but watch.

"Open this door!" More loud pounding.

More knocks, more panic, more fear.

Until the voice of the kid made you look again.

"Bloody hell! Look at the state of this place." His little eyes focused on a bunch of Legos in front of him. They weren't even scattered. "Better sort it out before mum sees it." His accent was the same as… Steven's.

"Marc! Open this door right now!"

Witnessing that was enough to clear your doubts; you weren't foolish. After your death, no one could really receit you. Your brain easily connected the dots, and apparently, Steven's did too; he had more clues than you did up to that point.

They weren't brothers.

Marc, Steven, and Jake shared the same body.

"When danger is near," Steven narrowed his eyes as he read from the poster on the wall above the child, "Steven Grant has no fear."

He took a deep breath through his mouth with heaviness.

"He made me up." That was the next thing he said, and you couldn't help but watch the child as he organized his Legos.

The door burst open with a shove, and that was your next cue; it was time to get out of there.

"Steven?"

Wendy, whom you had been referring to as 'the mother,' entered the room, her eyes red, and an aroma of alcohol that even you could sense.

"You are going to learn…" She took Marc's belt, the one that hung next to his toys. It was a horrible parallel, and you could swear your chest hurt. "to listen."

Her steps were slow as she coiled the belt in her hand.

"Steven?" You whispered, pushing him in the chest. He stood on tiptoe to get a better view of the scene.

"I wanna see what she did." He mumbled with difficulty.

You gave him another push with all your might.

"Steven, we have to go."

"Let me see what she did." That was the last thing he said before you slammed the door shut, muffling the poor child's cries of pain inside the room.

"I don't hate her." It was the only thing he could say after what seemed like hours. The sun seemed to have set.

You nodded slowly, your head resting against the door just like his.

"I know."

"She was sad."

You had to swallow the urge to tell him that it didn't justify what she did, but you chose to nod and offer him some peace.

"She was."

There were a few more seconds of silence before you murmured, "We have to go."

He nodded and was the first to stand up, intending to offer you his hand, just as you had done with Jake a while ago. You took his hand and stood up, but you didn't let go of his hand.

You descended the stairs slowly; the house suddenly seemed filled with people. Apparently, this wasn't over yet, and you started to seriously think that Steven wouldn't get out of here. How much more could his heart take?

Everything seemed blurry, although of course, you didn't know that the reason behind it was that Marc had never entered the house that day; the memory was clouded by a window in between.

"What happened here?" He whispered behind you.

"Your mom, Steven."

Her photo was on one of the tables, behind two long candles.

"Don't talk nonsense." He took a few steps forward to see what you were seeing. "My mom and I already sorted this out; it must have been something that ha- happened." They were all wearing black clothes around him. "in the past." He completed in a whisper.

You looked at him again, his eyes filled with tears as he shook his head.

"No, no, this can't…" He swallowed hard, making your own throat ache in response. "Marc would have told me."

You doubted it, but it wasn't the time to remind him that Marc seemed to be hiding many things from him.

"No, this can't be happening." He mumbled, again losing his ability to string sentences together.

Breaking your heart once again. The front door of the house opened in front of both of you, and you understood that it was time to move on.

Without saying anything, you tapped his shoulder, getting his attention. You pointed to Marc outside the house, just a few meters away, drinking from his flask with teary eyes.

"Marc?" He whispered to himself as he moved awkwardly and quickly towards him, leaving the house with you behind.

You decided to give him space; his memory allowed you to stroll through a couple of nearby gardens, and you waited on the grass while Steven processed the moment when Marc finally broke down.

Kneeling on the pavement, his body tense until the English accent of the other became noticeable in the way he spoke to himself.

The place was getting darker, and after a few hours, you sat on the sidewalk, watching the scene from afar. Steven had the opportunity to digest the situation as much as he could, and although for any normal person this would have been the end, you knew this wasn't the point for Steven.

He was understanding, strong within his sensitivity, and he knew how to deal with things that Marc couldn't.

You finally understood the feeling he was facing and what he was releasing.

Grief.

The grief of losing his mother as a child, and the grief of losing her again as an adult. His brother, his father.

The grief of losing himself while trying to understand that he wasn't 'the original' but Marc.

Meanwhile, as the crying finally subsided, Steven was talking to himself. Or so it seemed, because no one else (meaning you) could hear the voices of Jake and Marc arguing with him. "I know how to get us out of here." "Jake, we're not going to harm her." They didn't have to say more for Steven to understand that they were referring to you. "I'm just saying it might be an easy job." "Are you suggesting we kill someone who's already dead? You've truly outdone yourself." "At least I'm looking for a solution, unlike you, Mr. 'resigned.'" "We can't leave Layla alone," Steven whispered, his gaze fixed on you in the distance. "See? Steven's on my side." Marc rolled his eyes. "And what do you want to do?" "I'm just saying… if there's a way out of here, she's the one who knows it."

Meanwhile, when the imaginary crickets began to resonate through Marc's blurry memory, Steven returned to you.

"Hey?" You looked at him, who knows how long you had had your eyes closed. "Can we continue?"

You nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Let's move on."

Mk's tag list :)@ninebluehearts @icreatedthisat317am @onefinnedwonder-fm @shousha133

115 notes · View notes

soldier-poet-king · 1 month

Text

About to go fail my highway test again woooo

#the duality of fran #anyway i am about to cry i htae tbis i hate this sytem #i just want it to be over so i can know i failed and go home and lick my wounds #PLUS i still have to call hydro and tebabt insurance #kill me

32 notes · View notes

dispenserofshenanigans · 5 months

Text

dispenserofshenanigans' ultimate shop lifting guide

● the average house weighs 70 tonnes, and has a floorspace of 656 square feet

● the average supermarket has a floorspace of 43,000 square feet

● therefore we can extrapolate that the average supermarket has a mass of 4,588,414.63414 kg

● the recommended safe weight for a human to carry is 16 kg

● therefore we can extrapolate a 286,776 to 1 pulley system would be sufficient to allow a human being to lift a shop :3c

#196 #rule #:3 #pulley sytems #i'm bad at math #silly shenanigans #hehehe >:3

37 notes · View notes

milagrosen · 8 months

Text

i think i have forgotten to mention here but i'm actually back in school (ironic i know for someone who hates the schooling system)

But i'm here, the only reason really because it's a fashion school, which is something i love and it has good paths and opportunities to get more global/international possibilites for jobs and such

Yeah so now i have school stuff and all so art might be very few here and there

However, i will be using my intagram more and more because once i get to actually do art and design, we are allowed to post anything we want. I'm pretty sure we get to start designing stuff soon. A top, skirt and pants are at least coming at some point, maybe a shoe design too and also a ceramics project.

So support on my insta would be very much appreciated!💕 It's @ milaroseie

I post all my art, designs, fashion things, thoughts and photos i take of thing and also myself at times

Thank you as always for supporting me and liking my art, i will do art still no worries🩷

#life changed a bit but i hope for good #i wanna get on a good path and steer my life towards my goals #i still dont like the schooling sytem tho #but i gotta learn the knowledge will be my arsenal i can fight with for my dreams #✌️

61 notes · View notes

ohmystaxk · 1 year

Text

Goodbye, My Dear Stranger (4)*

[PREVIOUS] | [NEXT]

Pairing(s): (Jake Lockley x f!Reader) (Steven Grant x f!Reader) (Marc Spector x f!Reader later on) [Pre-Moon Knight show]

Chapter Character(s): Steven Grant.

Content/Tags: confessions of possible stalking, Reader themselves is a RED FLAG, SMUT +18 (so strap tf up!), dom/sub like dynamics, fingering, oral (m!receiving), cum eating, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling, gagging, Reader being a FREAK IN THE STREETS AND IN THE SHEETS.

Word Count: 7.0k (this was a big boy for me!)

Summary: The shop has close temporarily, and without any means of communicating with Jake after what happened between the two of you, you decide to go out and have some fun.

It happened so suddenly.

You directed him through the hall once the lift stopped at your floor. You unlocked the door to your flat, his hand still on yours. When you stepped in, you found yourself pulling him in after you had closed the door behind him.

He looked at you, his gaze heavy on your lips before meeting your eyes. You grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in. Your hands found comfort on his hair as your lips met his. His hands flew to squeeze your hips greedily. He pulled away to kiss from your cheek to your jaw, then kissed his way down to your neck as you pushed him against the door.

A gasp escaped you as you felt his hot breath on your skin, the sensation giving you goosebumps, you arched your back against his hold. You pulled his face towards yours, his eyes half closed as he looked at you in a haze. You closed the distance, kissing him deeply as you pulled on his hair, earning a moan from his lips.

Your hands found his jacket and started pushing it off his shoulders. He quickly got the message, taking it off and letting it drop somewhere on the floor. His hand returned to your hip, the other one gliding under your shirt, his fingers cold against the heat of your skin.

“I can’t believe you’re kissing me.” He spoke against your lips, his breath ghosting over them.

“You best believe it, Steven. Take it off,” The sudden demand caught his attention. He cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at you as his eyes bore into yours.

“Please take my shirt off.”

When the rays of sunlight slipped through the drapes, you frowned. You let out a groan as you tossed around, trying to return to the peacefulness of sleep. But that was cut short due to the loudness of the busy street below.

“Fucking downtown.” You whined as you started to stretch your limbs.

Lucky for you, there was no need to go to work that day. As a matter of fact, you had the entire week off. Three nights after your kiss with Jake, there were machinery issues at work. The place was closed for the week as they worked on getting that fixed and did some light remodeling on the side.

Thankfully, the short vacation would not affect your salary and you would be receiving your paycheck on time. You were happy to have a breather, you had spent the last couple of days going out and visiting thrift stores, a couple of libraries in search for new books, and having dinner at Deanna’s place. You were having fun hanging out and spending time at your place. Then, there was the thought of what had happened between you and the mysterious man. Your kiss with Jake had surprised you, you didn’t regret it at all, but you weren’t one to be impulsive.

Jake was a very attractive man. Att first, he seemed scaringly cold, but that night at the cafe, then later in his car, he had been charming. The way he smiled and laughed, how easy he went along with things, and god did he make you feel giddy; he had you smiling like a schoolgirl. Jake was different from most of the people you had dated.

You were glad he had been nice to you, and seemed to worry about your safety, on two occasions to be exact. Of course, it was the bare minimum, but nonetheless it was important enough for you to remember. Yet, he had not shown up. Not once since the kiss. You didn’t have his number to let him know you wouldn’t be at the coffee shop, but you knew he would find out if he went looking for you.

Perhaps it was weird for you to start doubting his intentions with you. But you did find it odd for him to not take a quick detour to say hi, or even leave his number with any of your other coworkers during the following days.

Deanna had mentioned seeing Steven, though. The man had ordered something and asked about you right after, telling Deanna he was sorry for not stopping by to say hello sooner. He then left his number with her that night. That’s what made you doubt Jake. Steven took the time to leave his number, even though the two of you talked once weeks ago; and Jake didn’t, even though you had kissed three days ago.

You sat in bed, removing the bedding away from your body and swinging your legs over the edge. You stood up and made your way to the kitchen, the space was brighter because of the sun shining through one of the open windows by the living room. The same window that faced Steven’s apartment. You had almost forgotten last nigh as you sat by it, a glass of wine in hand. The drink warmed up your body, so you opened the window.

Today seemed like a warm day, the sun was bright, it made you feel energized. You opened the fridge, looking inside for something to prepare. It was then that you heard your phone chime from your bedroom. You paused your search and walked back to get it. You saw the phone laying on the floor, it had probably fallen last night. You picked it up and saw the screen liight up with a notification.

Deanna 🥰: ‘Wanna go downtown and get some drinks later? 🍾

I invited Rose and Martha GIRLS NIGHT!!’

You: ‘I’m down

Just let me know what time 😌’

You replied quickly and turned around to walk back to the kitchen.

After a while, you had finished cooking your breakfast and managed to eat as you scrolled through your phone and watched something on your laptop along the way. After that, you took a shower and got dressed, you had decided to go out by yourself before Deanna confirmed the time of the outing. With your shoulder bag and your phone ready, you stepped out of your apartment.

After a couple of minutes of riding the bus, you found yourself at the steps of the British Museum. You tightened the grip of your shoulder bag and took in a deep breath. Maybe it was a dumb idea, going in and talking to Steven. You didn’t even know if he worked Saturdays. You could still head back and go somewhere else. Yet, there was something Jake had said, and it lingered in the back of your mind.

“I need you to keep me a secret whenever you talk to him again.” He’d said it like he was sure an interaction would occur again at any time. Maybe he was right, you were standing in line to get an entry ticket.

Your phone buzzed again, a quick glance showed a text from Deanna. You wanted to open it, but for some reason you needed to think of an excuse first. Why were you there when you could simply text Steven? Truth was, you wanted to see him. Perhaps it didn’t make sense, but if you were to get to know Jake, you wanted to get to know Steven too. Maybe become the bridge between the two, and help them reconcile in the future.

“How many entries?” The voice of the man at the booth startled you.

Once you got your ticket, you made your way inside the building. The place was busy, children and adults wandered the exhibits, curious eyes stared at displays. You walked around, not feeling brave enough to approach the gift shop just yet. You had looked towards it when walking in, but not seen Steven. So, you continued on your own.

You had made it to the back part of the Museum, there were less people than at the entrance. There was a bench by the back, the wall behind it contained a painting that almost covered it whole. You sat down and placed your bag next to you. You took your phone out of the bag and the screen lit up.

Deanna 🥰: ‘We’re going out at 21:20

Rose said she can pick u up if u want’

You: ‘Sounds good

can be ready at 20:50’

You replied and then looked at the time, 15:27. You had more than en0ugh time, almost too much, to spare. You sighed, perhaps it was a bad idea coming all the way here to see Steven.

You ended up putting on your earphones, music played while you walked around and took pictures of the place. Whether it was the rays of sunlight that came from the windows or the details on paintings, anything to pass the time and distract yourself. It was fun really, spending time on your own and getting to focus on what you wanted. You had noticed the things you’d missed when you walked around the first time with Deanna.

“Hello there, stranger.” You put your phone away. You were about to take a picture of a sarcophagus when you heard his voice.

You turned your head to the left. Steven waved at you with a smile. He furrowed his eyebrows as you blinked a couple of times. “You alright there?”

“Yes, hi.” You nodded at him with a quick smile. “Sorry, you just caught me off guard. Hey Steven, how are you?”

“Don’t apologize. I’m actually the one that’s surprised to see you here.” Steven readjusted the shoulder strap of his bag, you look down at it with a frown. “I’m doing good actually, more so now that I got to see you.”

“Are you heading somewhere?” Steven followed your gaze. A quick laugh escaped him.

“Home to Gus, I just finished up here. Worked the morning shift today actually.” You nodded and bit your lip to prevent you from rolling your eyes at yourself.

How lucky for you. Steven was tired and wanted to head home. And here you were, trying to catch him at his work place to talk, and you weren’t even able to do just that.

“Who are you here with? Is it your friend from last time?” You shook your head.

“No, I came here by myself this time. I wanted to really explore it, since I didn't get the chance when I was last here.” Steven seemed surprised at the answer you had given him. A smile appeared on his lips.

“Yeah, it’s magnificent, isn’t it?” There was a sparkle in his eyes. You smiled and nodded. “By the way, I saw today that The Green Wall is going to be closed for a few days.”

“Oh, yes. They are doing some remodeling and we are getting the old machines replaced.”

“Glad to hear it’s nothing more serious.” Steven fidgeted with the strap of his bag once more. His eyes looked into yours, a shade of red on his cheeks caught your attention. “I went yesterday...”

“Deanna told me,” You interrupted him, giving him a smile that seemed to relax his nervous state. “I actually came to talk to you. I’m sorry I left the way I did the other day.”

Steven frowned, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t take it in a bad way. It’s completely fine.”

“Thank you, Steven.” You nodded your head towards the entrance of the Museum, signaling the man to walk with you. “Have you eaten anything?”

“Not really. Have you?” He turned his head to look at you as you walked. You smiled as you faced forward.

“Not really. What do you say Steven, would you like to go and grab a bite?” You offered, turning your head to look at him. His eyes lit up and he nodded with a smile.

“I say I would love to.”

____

Steven had mentioned he was vegan when you asked him if he had any preferences. So, you ended up doing a deep search for places that offered vegan-friendly options. After a couple of minutes you managed to find a well reviewed place that seemed good enough for the two of you. It was three streets away from the Museum and the two of you walked all the way. You mostly talked about some of the exhibitions, discovering Steven’s passion for Egyptology and how he had wanted t0 be a tour guide instead of working at the gift shop. Once you made it to the restaurant, the two of you sat on the terrace to enjoy the nice weather.

“I still can't believe Donna has not hired you as a tour guide yet. I mean, everything that you have told me so far has made me feel far more engaged than any of my professors ever did.” Steven shook his head, taking a sip of his iced tea.

“You flatter me, really. I do hope I can make it, one day maybe.” Steven looked at the street.

“And it will happen, she’s stupid if it doesn’t. Having you there would be a complete missed opportunity, Steven.” You crossed your arms on top of the table. “Don’t you think?”

Steven looked back at you, a cheeky smile on his lips as he shook his head at you. “Thank you, really. It’s nice having someone else to talk to.”

“Oh, really? Who’s my competition?”

“Gus, mainly. Then my mum, we don’t talk really, she’s far too busy.” The mention of his mom surprised you.

“What does your mother do?” Steven perked up.

“She’s currently traveling the world. Wherever she goes she always sends me a postcard.” You nodded as he took another sip of his drink.

“And what about your father? Do you have any siblings?” You were glad he had mentioned his mom. It was the opening you needed to get information from Steven relating to Jake.

“My dad? Never met him, my mum raised me as a single mother. She worked hard her whole life. I never felt the need to meet him. And I am an only child, well, at least I think I am.” He answered genuinely and let out a small laugh at his own joke. “What about you?”

“Both of my parents live in the States. They separated recently, but they are on good terms. I have two older siblings.”

“Must be nice having someone to grow up with, innit?” Steven’s question made you chuckle.

“It sure can be. We are all pretty close in age. Yet, we had our fair share of fights and mischief along the years. I miss them a lot sometimes.” The waiter arrived with your food, placing the plates down in front of you. “Have you ever wanted a sibling?”

“Sometimes, whenever I hear people talking about theirs, I think of what it would be like if I had one.” Steven grabbed his utensils and began picking at his food.

“Well, it might not be too late, you know? Perhaps your father had other children.” You looked at him as he took a bite, shaking his head as he chewed.

“I doubt they would want anything to do with me. Besides, I don’t mind it.” You took a bite then. The two of you shared a silence that was rather comfortable as you ate.

So, Steven didn’t know of his father or any siblings that he might have. Jake had been right about Steven having no clue, but why would his mother just lie about Jake? What could she have gained from not seeing her own child and keeping both of her children away from each other?

“Can I ask you something?” Steven spoke up, his fork moving his food around. His eyes looked down at the plate, yet he seemed to stare far beyond it.

“Sure, Steven.” You looked at him patiently, taking a sip from your drink.

“That time at the Museum, the first time. Why did you ask me out?” You looked down at your plate. “I am older than you, you know that, right? Why ask a gift shopist out?”

Of course you figured Steven to be older than you, but not old enough to ring alarms to any bystanders that might think you are trying to scam an older man out of his retirement funds. Not like you even would. It actually made you laugh, the thought of Steven thinking he might be far too old for you.

“How old are you?” You crossed your legs under the table, tilting your head to the side as you leaned forward.

“Thirty-eight.” He admitted, his head down as he looked up at you. He looked nervous as he continued toying with his food, you nodded with a smile.

“Well, you're not that much older than me Steven. You almost made me worry for a second there.” Your answer seemed to please him, he laughed nervously as he went for another bite. “Not that I would mind either way.”

His eyes widened and Steven started coughing. You were about to stand up and help him, when he raised his hand, stopping you on your tracks. His face was red, once he stopped coughing.

“Now you’re just having a laugh.” He took a sip and shook his head. You laughed this time.

“Why would I lie?” He tried to speak but you interrupted him, “Like you said, I was the one to ask you out, not just once but twice now. And if I remember correctly, I have your number, I could have called you or sent you a message. But instead I went looking for you.”

“But why?” You expected him to act bashful at your teasing, but instead he was dead serious.

It bothered him, you realized, not knowing your intentions with him. What you wanted from him, because it was clear what his intentions with you were. He wanted to know you, to form a relation with you. Steven seemed like a nice man, more friendly than Jake seemed. It was that same exception that surprised you when you suddenly had asked Steven out. It was true, you didn’t know why you had asked him in the first place.

But you knew why you left that first time. It had been the implication of you knowing where he lived, of seeing him through your window almost every night that scared you, because it would freak him out.

“I can’t tell you, Steven.” You admitted to him. He seemed taken aback at your answer, his eyes widening only slightly and he looked down with a short nod.

“I knew it was too good to be true.” His words made your stomach hurt. You had said those exact words on countless occasions, and now being at the receiving end hurt.

“I can’t tell you because you will think me crazy.” You shook your head. “There is nothing wrong with you, trust me when I say that. I’m the one with fucking red flags, Steven.”

“I hardly doubt that.” Steven scoffed, you grabbed your bag and reached inside.

“Oh I assure you. I do.” You pulled out your wallet, pulling out a bill and setting it on the table.

“It can’t be that bad, just-.”

“We are neighbors, Steven!” You interrupted him, closing your eyes tightly as you spoke. “I live in the apartment across the street from yours, we share a window. I’ve seen you before. I’ve-.” You shook your head once again, standing up before Steven grabbed your arm gently.

You looked at him, his eyebrows tilted upwards with wide eyes.

“You don’t have to do that.” His words surprised you, your body froze in place.

Your limbs feel heavy, your heart beat fast, you felt your fingertips get cold. And, by the look on Steven, the color had drained from your face. There was nothing in his eyes that told you he was weirded out, that he was concerned with the implication of your words.

“What?” Your voice barely even came out of your mouth, you felt your body running cold as he softened his grasp. Steven was so close, his eyes looked into yours with nervousness, he swallowed as they flickered between your eyes and your lips. You had almost missed it.

“Telling me that, to what? To make me stop talking to you?” He said your name and you felt a chill run down your spine. He sounded like Jake, the way he said it made your body respond by giving you a flashback of the kiss. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” You said without thinking. You rolled your eyes and looked away. “I am not lying to you Steven.”

Steven let go of your arm, but didn’t back away. He looked down at the floor before glancing back at you.

“Show me.” He said with both of his hands going to his pockets.

“What?” You looked at him with a frown, laughing nervously.

“Show me where I live. Only then I’ll know you are not lying.” You sighed.

You ended up calling a cab for the two of you. You gave the address and Steven didn’t say anything, even when just the street alone should have told him all he needed to know. During the ride the two of you remained silent. Steven looked out the window, while you looked straight ahead, playing with the strap of your bag that was now on your lap. After a couple of minutes the cab came to a stop. Steven offered to pay.

The two of you stepped out. Across the street was the alley between the two apartment buildings, Steven stood by the side of his, and you on the side of yours. You took in a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag.

“Which is mine then?” He placed his hands on his hips, looking up as he squinted because of the sunlight. You rolled your eyes.

“Steven please.” You looked at him. His hair was messy, skin radiant under the sunlight, a shadow of stubble framing his jaw and cheeks.

“Just wanna make sure.” He turned to look at you. His eyes looked like honey under the sun.

You bit your lip and looked away, focusing your eyes on his window.

“Top floor. The windows facing the alleyway. Mine is the one across. Your window gives a view to a desk and part of the kitchen.” You saw Steven nod on your peripheral.

“Yours to the kitchen as well, you have a sofa by the window and you have a little table as well.” You whipped your head to look at him, he was eyeing your apartment from where he stood. “I never really saw you, but you always had a lamp on during the night. That was until you left me at the coffee shop.”

“That’s why I left. Because of what you would think when this happened. I didn’t want this to happen, I swear.” You got closer, standing in front of Steven. His gaze went from above you to just you. His eyes softened.

“I thought it was weird before, finding some sort of comfort in a stranger's light. Now, here I am with said stranger. At least I’m glad you are not somebody's grandmother.” His joke made you laugh, remembering your assumption of Steven before you saw him.

“Are you sure you don’t find this weird? You can tell me the truth and I’ll understand.” But Steven scrunched his nose and tilted his head to the side.

“Maybe a little, but if I was truly bothered I would already be heading to my flat and locking myself up.” He looked up once more, his eyes shifting towards your place.

“Curious?” You asked, looking up at him. “I can show you if you want.”

“I bet yours is better than mine.” He looked down with a smirk. You shook your head.

“I doubt that. Yours is twice the size of mine. Come one, I’ll show you.” You started walking, Steven following behind immediately.

The two of you walked through the crowd and the stands of food that crowded the alley. You grabbed his hand when he tried moving between a group of people, holding him tightly as you two made it to the steps of the entrance, you typed your code and the door unlocked, the two of you headed inside.

You made it to the elevator, pressing the floor of your flat, Steven standing next to you. You felt him squeeze your hand. Steven cleared his throat, fixing his posture. “I wanted to tell you something, back at the Museum.” He started.

“What is it?” You looked at him, his eyes were soft, looking deep into yours.

“You looked like you belonged there. Art itself.” You felt your face heating up, your heart beating loudly in your chest.

“Now you gotta be toying with me.” It was hard to stop smiling, you felt giddy at his compliment.

“I would never,” He spoke your name one more time softly. “You look so beautiful today, and the way the sunlight kissed your face… I bet even the sunflowers would be jealous.”

You held your breath, Steven held your hand tightly, giving you a gentle squeeze. You had never felt your stomach flutter. Your smile grew and so did his. You felt shy, having never heard a compliment like that before, specially directed at you.

It happened so suddenly.

“I can’t believe you’re kissing me.” He spoke against your lips, his breath ghosting over them.

“You best believe it, Steven. Take it off,” The sudden demand caught his attention. He cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at you as his eyes bore into yours.

“Please take my shirt off.”

“Right now? Are you sure?” He asked. One of his hands going up t0 caress your cheek. His thumb felt rough on your skin.

“I am,” You nodded quickly. “You look so good, please.” You looked at him. His hair was disheveled, his breathing almost as erratic as yours.

“Alright, love. Don’t worry, I got you.” His hand moved away from your cheek and went to the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you once you quickly threw your arms up. He then fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, trying to take it off on his own.

You kissed him again, helping him undo the lower ones as he worked on the ones on top. Your hands brushed each other as you tried to undo the shirt as quickly as possible. He pulled away, crossing his arms at the hem of the shirt and pulling upwards once enough buttons were undone.

Steven went to kiss you again. His hands went to your hips first, snaking their way down to your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you gasp against his lips. Your hand flew to his shoulders, in need of something to ground you against the sudden rush of emotions you were experiencing. His skin was warmer than his hands, his muscles felt strong under your grip. It was the sensation of his lips against your neck that made you speak up.

“I want you to fuck me.” Your head was tilted backwards, half-lidded eyes towards the ceiling, your hand went back to his hair for a sense of comfort. “I need you to fuck me, Steven.”

“You sure?” He asked again, his gaze serious. So serious you almost saw Jake on his face. Had your mind not felt cloudy, you would have felt alarmed at the fact. The heat of his body against yours overwhelmed you.

“Yes, please.” Steven kissed you quickly before pulling back, taking your hand and looking around your flat.

“Where’s your bed?” His gaze fell on the window. The drapes were half drawn and, even from where the two of you stood, you could partly see inside his flat.

“I’ll take you.” You offered, looking at him for any sign that would tell you he wanted out. “Is that okay?”

He looked back at you with a smile and nodded. “You can actually see a lot from here.”

You walked towards your bedroom. Steven closely followed. You opened the door. You walked all the way in and directed Steven to stand in front of the bed. You let go of his hand. It was then that you were finally able to take him in.

Broad strong shoulders, a toned body, and strong arms that were not something you expected from him. It was the baggy clothes he usually wore that gave the opposite effect of his buff frame. You looked him in the eyes and placed your palm on his chest. You lightly pushed him and he fell sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You lean down and kiss him. His hands cradle your face as you lower yourself all the way to your knees, his legs spread out on either side of you. His eyes stayed on yours the whole time. He shudders as you gently run your fingernail down his ribs, going down to the hem of his trousers, finding the button and undoing it. Your other hand pulls the zipper down. Steven gasps when your hand palmed him through his underwear. He rests his forehead against yours as you squeeze him.

“Is that okay?” You ask. Steven nods enthusiastically.

“Mhm, yes.” He responded and you pulled at his trousers, letting him you wanted them off. He quickly helps you, taking them off, as a matter of fact, taking everything off except his boxers.

You kissed him one more time, distracting him as your hand squeezed him again. This time from inside his boxer. He moans into your mouth, your hand beginning to pump him as he holds your face on his hands gently. He opens his eyes, their usual shade of brown almost entirely replaced by black.

“Oh, fuck.” He chokes out. “You’re so soft.”

“I’m soft somewhere else.” You tease him, earning a groan from him as he runs one hand through your hair. The other stays on your cheek, caressing you.

“Don’t do that to me, fuck, don’t say that, please.” You pulled his boxer down slowly, maintaining eye contact with Steven all the while. He looked beautiful. Lips glossy and swollen as he licked them, his curls messy and puffy. His chest rose and fell, fast and unsteady as he leaned back, his hands behind his frame, planted on the bed to keep him up.

“Wanna see?” You looked down, and goddamn is he hard.

His length twitches on your grasp when you squeeze his thick girth one more time. Steven swallows hard and tries to maintain eye contact with you. He watches you lower your head and kiss his stomach. You kissed your way down to his hip bone and planted a kiss on his right thigh. You looked up at him and waited for him to speak again.

“I don’t deserve you on your knees.” He shudders when you kiss his left thigh.

“I want to, Steven. Will you let me do this for you? I bet that boss of you drove you out of your mind today, didn’t she?” You rose back up to kiss him on the cheek, still pumping him. “I bet you can’t wait to fuck my mouth.”

Steven throws his head back and lets out a deep moan. “You have no idea.” He confesses and you feel yourself getting wetter. “I want to feel you so badly. Please.”

You kissed him on the lips one more time before dropping back to your knees. You lean down and kiss the head. Steven gasps loudly as he looks down at you, a frown is on his face and his mouth hangs open. You open your mouth and lick the underside of his length before slowly taking him in. He twitches inside your mouth. You pump him as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

“Ah, I couldn’t stop thinking of you after the cafe.” He says as his hand comes to brush your hair away from your face. “That night I dreamt of you. I dreamt of you just as you are. Fuck you look so much prettier.”

His breath faltered as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him in even deeper. He tightened his grasp on your hair and thrusted upwards, hitting the back of your throat and making you to gag. You took a deep breath through your nose before pulling away.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Steven leaned forward, wiping away the tears that formed on your eyes. You shook your head with a quick smile.

“No, it's okay.” You were about to go down again when Steven grabbed your chin, tilting your head upwards.

“If you do that again I won’t last long.” You nodded and stood up.

“There’s condoms on the nightstand.” You pointed with your chin as you unclasped your bra. Steven stood up from the bed and you started undoing the button of your trousers.

You pulled the zipper down and shimmed out of them, your underwear followed. Steven had the condom on when you crawled your way to the pillows on the bed, laying your back flat against them as you kept your knees up.

Steven knelt in front of you, his breathing erratic as his eyes took your image in. You spread your knees apart, revealing yourself to him. Steven eyed you like he had traveled the desert for many nights and had stumbled upon an oasis. He got closer, seating on his heels as he placed your legs on each of his thighs. He brought his hands to caress yours, slowly making his way up your hips, your stomach, your ribs before looking back at you.

“Can I?” He asked as he leaned down, resting his forehead on yours, his nose brushing yours.

“Of course.” You said and he kissed the tip of your nose, his hands going to squeeze your breasts and pulling a moan from your throat.

“I need to feel you. All of you. I need to know this is not a dream.” Steven gives your cheek a kiss, going down to kiss your neck. You gasp when you feel him bite down on the nook between your shoulder and neck.

“Steven.” You breathe out his name as you feel his right hand glide down your stomach. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Steve whispers, soft and slow against your ear. His hand stops right on your pubic bone, his touch heavy and cold against your skin. You feel your head spin at the sudden change of attitude.

“Please touch me, please.” You bring both of your hands to grasp his arms, pleading in his ear.

“You sound so pretty, love.” His hand continues his path down and your back arches off the mattress when his fingers graze your clit. Your digged nails in his skin as you let out a choked moan. “I wanna hear you more.”

His fingers start circling around your clit. The sensation made you throw your head back and hit the pillows and you started taking in quick breaths. Steven leaned down, his lips placing kisses along your collarbone, then slowly meeting the softness of your breast, biting gently on the skin, and licking the pain away each time. He starts running circles faster, your heart beat spreading up, your walls squeezing on nothing as he takes one of your breasts to his mouth, his tongue twirling around your nipple at the same speed of his fingers. One of your hands finds themselves back on his hair, pulling it as you keep moaning at the overwhelming sensations.

“Am I doing good?” He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, his eyes look heavy as he meets your eyes, a whine escapes you as you feel his fingers leave you.

“Steven, you are doing so good-” You pull his hair as you gasp, two of his fingers go inside you.

The movement is so sudden you squeeze them in further. It’s then Steven curls them and you moan, you can barely breath once he starts to pump his fingers in and out. Steven nuzzles your cheek with his nose and places a gentle kiss.

“You are so wet. Can you hear that? Sounds lovely, innit?” He pulls his fingers out of you, whining at the loss, you turn your head to look at him. But you are received with a rather welcome view. Steven with his fingers on his mouth as he savors the taste of you on his tongue. “I’ll taste you next time, I promise.”

You bring his face towards you, pulling him into a kiss, your tongue licking his lips and it’s then he opens his mouth, your tongue snaking in, tasting yourself as you do.

You pulled away, breathless. “Please, Steven.” He kisses you, a sheepish smile on his face as he leaned over you.

“I got you love, I got you.”

You bring your legs to his sides, Steven holds himself with his left hand, while he grabs his length on his right, the tip gracing you clit, making you jolt. He looks at you as you feel him pushing in, your mouth opens as you gasp at the small sting. Your body shudders as you feel Steven gripping your hip as your hands have decided to tightly grip the sheets under you.

“Oh fuck.” He chokes out, his head hanging down, his curls falling on your forehead. “You're so warm.” He keeps pushing in, your wetness making the job easy for the both of you.

After a couple of minutes, you brush Steven’s hair away, making him look at you. When he does, you can help but smile at him, Steven looks blissful, skin radiating, color seeming to return to his pale skin. You nod at him and he nods back, his hips starting to move and you gasp as his length starts filling you in, the drag feeling intoxicating.

You feel all the air leave your lungs when he begins a fast pace, his thighs hitting the back of yours roughly as he kisses your neck, you hold on to his arms for dear life as he thrusts deeper, the head of his length gracing your sweet spot, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You’re clamping down on my cock, so fucking amazing, dove.” He starts speeding up, your legs press on his lower back, making him go deeper.

“Steven, I think I’m gonna cum.” You slurred your words as you felt him nod next to your face.

“I know, I know, I can feel you.” He moans as your walls contract. “I’m also getting close.”

Steven then starts rubbing your clit at the same time he thrusts into you, your back arches and you dig your nails on his back. “Ah, fuck, please, Steven.”

“You feel so good, you can do it, I know you can.” Steven whispers into your ear as he gasps. You feel him twitch inside you, his thrusts feeling erratic and out of pace. He starts rubbing faster and you feel you might black out.

You cum, your eyes shut and it feels like your head is spinning, you see white spots behind your eyelids. You take in a quick breath as you feel Steven slowing down, his head hanging next to yours, he whines breathlessly, as his fingers rub circles on your hip. He leaned down, slightly putting some of his weight on you, but nothing you couldn’t handle and he kissed your jaw.

“You okay? Was that good?” His voice sounds raw. You nod with a silly smile, your eyes feel heavy.

“Never better.” Your response makes him laugh, hiding his face on your neck, slowly pulling out and the two of you moan from the sensitivity.

After a couple minutes, he stands up and walks away. You find he went looking for your bathroom as you hear the tap running, not too long after he returns with a wet cloth.

He kneels by your side, passing the cloth on your face and neck to get rid of the sweat that had been covering your skin. He moves down and cleans you, a whine escapes you and you thank him. Steven throws the cloth on the floor and he falls on his side next to you, his eyes heavy as well as yours, he even had that stupid little smile you knew you were mirroring. You open your arms at him and the man takes the invitation, pulling you on his arm and cuddling you. He pulls one of the covers closer and lets it drape over your bodies.

“You should sleep.” Steven says, placing his chin on top of your head.

“I will if you do.” You offer and feel him nod.

“I think I just might, you took everything out of me.” You laughed.

“Means we had a good time then. Rest well, stranger.”

Add yourself in the taglist!

Taglist: @22carolina08 @wandasupremacy @jesusbussy420 @ninebluehearts @whitearmsredhands @silversweetpea @siimiasoi @stuckybarton @jbearre85 @virgin-mojitos @theking-arthur @btsluvr1 @belladri @amasdaydream @bt21tatakeyakey @l0ki3000 @kittytiddywinks @yuukiyoko @laaundromat @fanfichotel @insomniacfigure @philiasoul @magicwithaknife @spidey-3 @chaimantis @username21mk @yoshidoes-stuff @deadbirdcz

#jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight system x reader #marvel #GMDS #steven grant smut #smut #moon knight sytem smut

119 notes · View notes

hydroponicgardeninglove · 1 year

Text

TIRUSS Hydroponic Tower Growing sytem Indoor hydroponic Grow System Vertical Grow Tower 15 Layer 45 Plants Sites with Pump and Movable Water Tank

TIRUSS Hydroponic Tower Growing sytem Indoor hydroponic Grow System Vertical Grow Tower 15 Layer 45 Plants Sites with Pump and Movable Water Tank Product Description & Features: Soilless cultivation : the water ciculation cultivation ,saving 90%water compare with traditional planting Easy to move : small size can meet the different layout forms create a beautiful agricultural landscape ,can…

View On WordPress

0 notes

noodyl-blasstal · 6 months

Text

Hide and go Splat

It's @taznovembercelebration day 10 and the card I drew was "hide". Welcome to the world of hide and seek paintball!

Read below or on Ao3, you can find yesterday's prompt here.

"One, two, three, four..."

Taako runs, sprints even, hurdles some of the bales of hay and swings himself up into the tree he scoped out on the way here. Flip wizard! Unstoppable! Apart from...

"Ow!" Someone very solid and very in Taako's tree says as he slams into them.

An arm reaches out and snakes round his waist, pulling them tight together at the hip.

"You're in Taako's tree!" Taako says, not making any effort at all to move - he's absolutely not planning to get any paint on him today and the branch is big, but not large enough for them to leave any space between them. Also Taako can't lie, the sensation of a strong arm wrapped around his waist, a yielding hip pressed to his, not bad. Definitely not bad. If this guy would just take off his visor Taako could assess whether this was a first date or not. Chances look good based on the bottom of his face. Lup did say Taako should try being more creative about how he met guys, she’ll be so pleased.

"I'd say, arguably, you're in my tree, considering I was here first." Interesting, the tree thief has an accent.

It doesn't necessarily sound like an on purpose accent, Taako's fairly sure that it's a bad impression of Cockney, but it's interesting nonetheless. He's from the green team, although all his gear is definitely the darkest shade he could find. A few brighter stripes on his forearms and the green t-shirt are the only indicators that he's not just some tree stealing renegade and is actually meant to be here. Taako searches the memory banks, honestly, he was paying more attention to finding the best hiding spot than who else was playing, but he definitely remembered giving one member of the green team a lingering once over instead of paying complete attention to the safety talk. This seemed like the same dude.

"So, what's a guy like you doing in a nice place like this?"

The man snorts. "I thought that was supposed to be a complimentary line?"

"You laughed, didn't you?"

"I thought maybe you were trying to charm me into letting my guard down so you could get me?"

"The only thing Taako wants to hit is the target. Then he can go home and get comfy."

The man inclines his head like he's thinking about the prospect of getting comfy, hopefully with Taako. Lup's gonna be so proud if he manages to pick up a guy in a tree.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." He does sound regretful.

"Why not?" Taako's happy to chat, honestly, if he keeps a member of another team distracted it's still playing the game.

"The rules, Taako? The point of us being here today?"

Oh, he was a rules guy. Bad, terrible actually. Taako couldn't date a rules guy.

Taako sighs, loud and obnoxious (no one's nearby, he checked first). "What if you just didn't stop me though?"

"Why?"

"Cha'boy would really like to hit the target. Think of how nice the cheers would be. Ta-ko! Ta-ko! Ta-ko!" He chant whispers, throwing his arms up in imaginary triumph.

"And why would I want them chanting your name instead of mine?" Taako can't see the top of his face through his visor, but he can feel the questioning eyebrow that's definitely raised.

"You'd have to tell me what it is so I know how it'd sound chanted. Ta-ko is hard to beat."

"It's Kravitz."

"Kra-vitz! Kra-vitz! Kra-vitz!" Taako does a test whisper cheer. "Fine, yours is pretty good too."

"Thank you!" Kravitz sounds pleased that Taako's acknowledged the chant-ability of his name. "So you can see why I can't let you do it?" Kravitz asks. He even sounds a little sorry.

"Counterpoint..." Taako is nothing if not great at making airtight, logically sound arguments. "... Blue team sucks."

Taako's got him here, he can tell.

"Mmhm." Kravitz says, keeping his cards close to his chest.

"Greens can't beat blues, but the mighty reds can." He's never above using people's hatred of the blues for his own personal gain.

"You can?" There's the hopeful note. Taako wills Kravitz to let the hatred flow through him.

"Uh huh. If you let cha'boy tag the target we're sitting pretty. I can guarantee my teammates are out there taking people down as we speak and they always go blue first." He wasn’t lying, Lup and Barry worked together and rarely missed; Magnus was terrifyingly quiet for someone of his stature; and Davenport was a master of drawing enemy fire to the space they could have sworn he'd been a few seconds before - he’d find their position based on the trajectory of their shots. Edward and Lydia and whatever 'friends' they'd hired that week could only get so far with their money. Well... there was all the umpires they'd bribed, but Taako could barely think about that without acidy injustice rage boiling in his stomach and he was all out of Tums.

"I should just hit you." Kravitz sounds like he's trying to convince himself.

"Mutually assured destruction, handsome, Taako's dexterous, cha’boy is speedy." Taako's pretty sure Kravitz was the one whose ass he was more concerned with than safety earlier, It seems prudent to alert him to Taako's relevant skillset.

"Oh does he now?" There's a playful challenge in Kravitz's tone, Taako can work with this.

"You can find out exactly how flexible Taako is if you want."

Judging by the way Kravitz's hand tightens on Taako's waist, he might just want.

“What if we both hit the target?”

“If you think you’ve got the skills to get it from here, stud.” Taako winks, even though Kravitz probably can’t see it through his visor.

“From here? You can’t.”

“Watch me.” Taako grabs his slingshot and a paintball in a smooth motion.

“You weren’t lying about being quick.”

“I’d take my time with you.”

“What?” Kravitz sounds like he’s worried he misunderstood, but his arm hasn’t moved, so Taako assumes it’s not revulsion.

“Nothing!” Maybe that was too much, he needs to reign it back in, Kravitz might not realise this definitely is a date yet. “So, about my superb target powers?”

“How about we make a deal?” Kravitz seems to be wiggling slightly, like when Taako gets to talk about why all caramel is salted. Taako doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be able to tell or not, but the excitement is infectious.

“Tell me more, tell me more.”

“If you hit the target from here, I won’t tag you.”

“If I don’t?”

“I’ll tag you… and get your number?”

“You can have that either way, handsome.” Taako says,hopes it’s smooth enough to counteract the way he lurches across Kravitz, winds up, and sends the paintball spinning. He’s out of Kravitz’s lap by the time the cheer goes up a few moments later.

“Green takes the target!” The announcer’s voice is projected across the pitch. “The blue spotter is searching, but to no avail. He has 5 seconds of danger time left, 4, 3, 2, 1. The green player is clear!”

“Fuck.” Mutters Kravitz.

“Have you got a pen?”

“What?”

“I thought you wanted Taako’s digits?” Maybe Taako misunderstood. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Can’t you just put it in my phone?” Kravitz wiggles for a second and grabs his phone from his pocket.

“Krav! What if someone’s tracking you?” Taako’s aghast.

“What if I see some cool birds I need to take a photo of? Or want to get a video of Lydia and Edward yelling at each other when they both get hit?”

“All good points.” Taako taps dutifully, grabs a terrifying mask-heavy selfie, and saves his contact to Kravitz’s phone before handing it back and grabbing his own phone.

“Hey! What if someone’s tracking you? You’ve got yours as well!”

“What if there’s a handsome guy whose number I need to get?”

Kravitz makes a pleased sound. “You make a great point, here.” Kravitz taps in his details then hands the phone back.

“So we’ve got at least another 10 minutes before the run back starts.”

“Seems prudent to stay here, wouldn’t you say?” Kravitz keeps his voice light, casual.

“However shall we pass the time?” Taako places his hand lightly on Kravitz’s thigh.

“I’m sure you have some wonderful ideas.” Kravitz’s voice is warm and rumbly and…

“You forgot your accent.”

“What?”

“You were Cockney like 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Oooh he’s fun to tease.

Taako takes his hand back. “Okay, well then, I guess…”

“That’s my hide and seek paintball accent.” Interrupts him.

“Run that by me one more time?” Taako’s going to marry this idiot. Right here in this tree.

“You know. An accent, a persona, to help with the…” Kravitz waves his hand in the general direction of the field and the occasional screams reaching them.

“Nope, cha’boy hasn’t got a clue what you’re on about. You’re perfect.”

“Fuck.” Kravitz hisses.

Taako’s about to ask what’s going on, but before he can he’s in Kravitz’s lap. This was moving slightly faster than the trajectory he’d assumed for them because of the tree and the need to hide and the witnesses and all, but he was absolutely on board with it. Toot toot, Taako and Kravitz are pulling out of the station. He places his arms round Kravitz’s neck. “Hey.”

Kravitz presses a finger to Taako’s lips. “Sssh.”

Less talking, more action, Taako can get behind that.

But now Kravitz is pointing, and, yes, there’s Lydia prowling around below them. Fucking Lydia. Of course she ruins this for him. A shot will give away their position, but if they’re careful… They exchange a look, Kravitz clearly doing the same maths in his head. Where Lydia is Edward isn’t usually far behind and that means two targets to take down. Good job there’s two of them.

“Oh Taako darling.” Lydia coos below them, focusing mistakenly on the pile of hay bales to their right. “I know it has to be you that tagged the target. Come out, come out wherever you are!”

Kravitz grimaces, matching Taako’s own. She inspires it in people. Taako wants to get her. Badly. But they have to get eyes on Edward first.

Taako shifts onto his feet and stands as quietly as possible. Kravitz looks up at him, clearly alarmed, and offers a hand for balance. It isn’t necessary really, Taako can do a tightrope blindfolded, a slack line backwards in the dark, run up a tree branch any day any time, but it’s nice. There’s a strong, welcoming hand, someone watching out for him, a handsome face looking up at him, someone that wants to help him do a paintball murder. That’s romance probably.

It takes them what feels like an age to get sights on Edward. It’s probably more like seconds of frantic scanning. He’s slotted between some hay bales further back than Taako would have expected, Lydia must be bait. Edward’s staring intently, poised and ready to fire. What he’s not ready for, is Taako giving Kravitz a nod, a mime, and them both dropping into place. Kravitz is fast loading, not as fast as Taako, natch, but he can appreciate talent.

Taako does the count down silently, uses his fingers to mark time.

Lydia screams when the paintball smashes across her chest plate, smearing her face too. Kravitz must have put spin on it somehow, beautiful clever man. Edward just looks disappointed when the red paint blooms across his front.

“Now that that’s taken care of?” Taako shifts back to the broadest section of the bough. “We should probably get back to, the, you know... ” He indicates the spot they’d settled in earlier.

Kravitz sits back down. “It’s important no one sees us.” Kravitz pulls Taako closer until he’s straddling his legs. “Better go back to the most streamlined position. We wouldn’t want to get spotted.”

Taako eases himself into Kravitz’s lap. “Safety first.”

Kravitz smiles, truly smiles, wide and goofy and toothy.

“I believe you were holding on, you know, to be extra safe.” Kravitz guides Taako’s arms back round his neck, drawing Taako in closer. “I’d better hold on too.” Kravitz grabs Taako’s thighs, pulls him forward firmly. He could get used to this, the man handling. Kravitz is strong, sure, but soft in the best places too, Taako can’t wait to explore every inch of him.

Taako leans in slowly, giving Kravitz time to move away if he’s misread the situation. Kravitz moves forward instead, eager and handsome and…

"MAGNUS!" Screams Magnus, as he drops down from a higher branch, hanging by his knees.

"No! Wait!" Taako puts his hand out too late. Magnus has already loosed his paintball, it flies straight for Kravitz's head.

"Fuck." Says Kravitz as it thwacks him square on the helmet. "Great shot." There’s a moment’s pause then he eyes Taako. "Now... Where were we?"

"Absolutely not, no, you're on your way to a date with a shower. You can meet Taako in the winner’s circle after."

Kravitz pouts. “But I'll miss you.”

"Well maybe you should have thought of that before you got paint all over you."

"I was a little distracted, if you remember." Kravitz has an edge in his voice, a hint of petulance, ooooh he cannot fail at anything.

"Not really, you'll have to remind me."

"Well I was somewhere around here." Kravitz catches on quickly, lifts a hand to cup Taako's face, stroke a thumb across his cheek bone. It's disgustingly tender. He hates how much he loves it.

Magnus rocks gently in the breeze. "Er, Taako? Sorry to interrupt, but I think I'm stuck."

#MAGNUS!#Taz November Celebration #TAZNC #Taakitz #TAZ Balance #Taako #Kravitz #TAZ fic #Noodyl Writes #(Yes I did think of a rules sytem for hide and seek paintball - no it didn't end up being necessary at all)

38 notes · View notes