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mahalshairyballs · 2 years

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What would it take for Steven to fall in love??? How would he express that?

Ahah are you the same person who asked that for Jake ?

That one is pretty easy to answer: someone who's pretty, nice, kickass and pays attention to him.

Edit. Okay, this ended up being an essay on Steven and love *sigh* of course, so here it is :

Steven Grant and love/intimate relationships

We saw how easily he falls for someone. I think he's had lots of crushes and people he fell in love with throughout the years.

I do think Layla is special though, even to Steven. She's his perfect woman, he wouldn't want anyone else.

I think he's very open with his love, both by letting himself feel and show those emotions and by being attentive to his SO.

You know the five love languages? Marc and Jake have their specific ones they're more comfortable with, Steven's love language is...all of them.

He gives compliments, tells his SO how much he cares about them, buys them gifts, he is helpful and supportive, he gives nice little attentions, wants to be close physically to them, cuddles, hand holding etc, writes French and coptic poetry for them.

If it weren't for his crippling relationship anxiety and neediness he'd be the perfect romantic boyfriend.

You could never say that Steven doesn't care about you or doesn't treat you well sometimes too well, ask Layla

Steven is the unbridled need for love and affection of the system.

The other two boys have the same need but they pretend they don't/burry it deep.

It's all good to subvert expectations and stereotypes but sometimes what the material gives you just works y'know ? No need to make it different to what we've been shown.

My way to 'subvert' Steven is just to make him the Straight BoyTM of the system. But even then he's not that straight, just more than Jake & Marc are.

Steven is definitely biromantic, because he just can't help but fall for everyone who's nice to him (okay he needs a bit more than that but you get the idea). He's only attracted to women however*, and he's comfortable being intimate with very few of those. He needs to know someone really well to be comfortable sleeping with them.

Steven still being a virgin at 34 (that's their age in the show if I'm not mistaken?) isn't just because he's neuroatypical/socially awkward/shy. It's also because, well, he didn't front for 34 years straight, so he was 'present' for less time than that. So to begin with he had less opportunities for it than your average singlet does. And thirdly, it's also because he needs that deep emotional connection before he can be intimate with someone (and with point 1 & 2 we know why he hasn't had that connection before Layla).

Steven is also the kind of person to call sex 'making love' (Jake & Marc roll their eyes every time, Layla giggles).

He's also the kind to say 'I love you' way too quickly (he has to compensate for the other two somewhere doesn't he?)

Marc has said 'I love you' to Layla before, but very rarely and way less often that he wished he had. So Steven will help Marc there at one point.

After saying 'I love you' to Layla after they made love

Layla came back from the bathroom to cuddle with Steven in bed.

Steven : 'Marc says he loves you too'

*Layla looked at Steven a little surprised*

Steven : 'since it's easier for me to say it, I thought I could relay the message.'

Layla : 'He said that in your...mind?' She still didn't know what to call the times where they could speak privately.

Steven : 'yeah, when you were gone.'

Layla smiled : 'tell him I love him too.'

Weirdly enough, Steven is more comfortable with bisexuality than Marc is. Steven doesn't mind talking about it, or thinking about the possibility, or Jake telling him things about his relationship with Jean-Paul. He just shrugs off the possibility of being physical with a man, he's just not interested.

Marc on the other hand is UncomfortableTM about it. Because he wants to prevent himself from thinking about it, because he knows deep down...his sexuality is a big can of worms he doesn't want to open.

* I found a way to fit Marc/Steven into my fic that makes sense to me. So there's that.

Marc is Steven's exception. Because it is a pretty exceptional situation and the way they got there is too. They will get physical, but it's in their innerspace, which is again a pretty specific and unusual situation (and they do not look like identical twins in their innerspace).

But Marc isn't that much of an exception for Steven. Steven is still biromantic straight, so he had to fall madly in love with Marc to be able to get physical with him, even in their innerspace. And they won't be doing 'everything', both Steven and Marc have their limitations, things they aren't comfortable with.

They'll try things outside their mind later, whatever they can do, with Layla involved too.

Following everything I said though, Steven once in love with Marc will treat Marc like he treats Layla, like he treats everyone he's fallen for.

*one day*

Marc sees a package on their drawer. There's a card, it just reads 'To my love, Steven ❤'

Marc : 'Layla? I think Steven left something for you in the bedroom'

Layla takes the package in her hand.

Layla : 'oh I don't think this one is for me'

Marc : 'whose is it?'

Layla, raising an eyebrow: 'who do you think? You, dummy' she says affectionately.

Marc : 'he bought something for me?'

Layla : 'Yes, he wanted to give you something special'

Marc looks the package over, but doesn't open it. Why is he feeling his face getting red? Steven bought something for me. He repeats in his head over and over again. What.

Layla : 'welcome to the exclusive club of 'being pampered by Steven'', she says teasingly.

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m00nsbaby · 9 months

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AITA for texting my fiancé that "this isn't working"?

Steven Grant x reader.

Tags & warnings. None. Yes, this literally is just a silly little thing that I read on reddit and I thought it was so funny lol. Reader is gender neutral!

Word count. 823.

Moving in with Steven was one of the best decisions you could make in your life, right after saying 'yes' when he proposed.

The only inconvenience came at a precise time between morning and afternoon, sometimes even at night, all depending on the mood of his boss. Waiting for Steven to return from work was such a headache, boring hours and dead time as you tried to find your own job.

The upside was that you now had complete freedom to organize his apartment to your liking, and if anything needed a complete makeover, it was Steven Grant's dark and disorganized home.

You had just made a completely necessary expense, a gigantic mirror that was clearly bigger than your capabilities. Worse yet, considering that if there was something you despised with all your heart, it was the mere idea of reading an instruction manual.

When the mirror arrived, the Amazon delivery guy mocked you to your face for your difficulty in handling the box and getting it into the house.

You: Baby, the new mirror just came in!

You hit send after the message.

You: I’m going to try to put it together but I may need your help later.

And just as you said, you got to work with the phone by your side, waiting for a response from Steven.

You assumed Donna was in a terrible mood because at least two hours went by without a reply, although you were really too busy to worry about that.

For a moment, you insisted on the idea of finishing assembling the darn mirror before Steven arrived home, but that clearly didn't happen because for the two and a half hours of effort you put in, you didn't feel like you were really getting anywhere.

Plus, you had extra screws that shouldn't have been left over.

You: This isn’t working and at this point, I think I need to just give up.

You put the phone aside and lazily lay down on the carpet. Why was assembling furniture so hard? Although not as difficult as having to accept that you couldn't finish it on your own.

You stayed there not knowing how long, but you estimated it was a few hours because you heard the front door indicating that Steven was home. The smile lasted only a short while because as you straightened up to greet him, he walked past you without even looking at you, heading straight to the bedroom.

"Steven?" you questioned, slightly furrowing your brow. You stood up slowly, giving him time to exit the room.

When you finally confronted him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. His eyes were red, completely filled with tears.

"What happened, baby?"

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. It shattered your heart into pieces.

"Why what, Steven?" He sniffled, and you searched his gaze when he started avoiding you.

"Why are you giving up on me?"

You nearly killed him right then and there.

"What are you talking about?"

He didn't take long to pull his phone out of his pocket and shake it a bit in front of your face; he was on the verge of sobbing.

"Y-Your messages, you were breaking up with me."

The moment Steven mentioned your text messages, you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing in his face.

Your expression almost made him cry harder. Were you making fun of him?

"Steven." Your voice came out in a playful tone as you almost burst into laughter. "I was talking about the mirror."

"Huh? What mirror?"

"The new mirror, it arrived." Your eyes were almost watering from holding back laughter. "I'm guessing that the previous messages didn't send; I was talking about not being able to assemble it on my own."

You stepped aside to let him see the mess you had made on the floor, with the mirror halfway assembled.

Steven exchanged glances between the things and you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

Realization hit in seconds, and you couldn't say anything more when you felt Steven's arms squeezing you against his chest. You couldn't stop laughing even though your laughter sounded odd, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"Bloody fucking hell, love!" Steven cursing was definitely a special event. It only made you laugh harder. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

He lifted you off the ground, and tears were already streaming down your face. It took much longer than expected to calm down from the laughter.

Still breathless, you let him kiss your face, as well as embrace you with his strong arms that refused to let you go.

"Still, I need you to check the mirror." You took a deep breath, your cheeks already reddened, one of your hands held onto him, and the other wiped the corners of your eyes. "I think I damaged it."

#moon knight #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader

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runa-falls · 10 months

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friendly favors

pairing: best friend!steven grant x reader

w/c: ~750

c/w: suggestive content (18+)

a/n: SCREAMING this into the void (YEA I KNOW I HAVE WIPS BUT FUCK IT)

part two | part three

---

the arrangement started when you noticed how stiff he was next to you as you watched a movie. even though his eyes were locked onto the screen, you could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

his leg bounced nervously when you looked over at him. he thought you wouldn't notice his embarrassing hardness under your shared blanket, but he was so desperate that his bulge was quite obvious, even with the extra layer.

it was the film that made him like that.

as your pick for the week, you chose a particularly adult film compared to the usual sci-fi/fantasy marathons you've been having. so far, there's been at least 3 make out scenes and 2 sex scenes.

steven's been counting.

usually, he would be fine.

if the actors didn't have insane chemistry that could convince the audience that they're really in love and obsessed with each other, he wouldn't be in this position.

unfortunately, that extra touch of genuineness turns him on to an unbelievable degree.

he couldn't even stand up and excuse himself the first time they kissed because he was already harder than he'd ever been in his life.

then there was you, sitting right next to him, smelling as lovely as always, dressed in comfy clothes that make him delirious. and then there's the way you look at him, speaking to him like he's a sleepy puppy. like a fragile thing for you to take care of.

"you want some help?" he freezes at the soft sound of your voice.

the movie was turned down low (to placate the neighbors) so he couldn't just ignore you and pretend like you didn't say something. you sound so sweet like you're offering to fold his laundry out of the goodness of your heart.

"help...? with what?" his eyes avoid yours as his hands attempt to pull a throw pillow over his lap. you gently slip it out of his hand with a soft smile and plop it on the carpeted floor.

"you seem a bit stressed, steven." you sound breathy as you take in his flushed appearance, appreciating his disheveled curls and shy glances. "let me help you relax, honey."

"i dunno...what you're talking about." he continues to play dumb, too mortified that this conversation is happening, but he can't avoid it once you peel the blanket off of both of you.

"this." his breathing quickens rapidly as your hand smooths over his thigh and palms over the tent of his pants.

"oh..." you squeeze and he loses his sight for a second. "...that" he barely wheezes out.

---

you're best friends with steven -- and you have been for a while. as a long-time tour guide, you took him under your wing when he started to train at the museum (he got a promotion!) and it wasn't long before he happily let you invade his life outside of work too.

now you have weekly movie nights, alternating lunch 'dates' (if he shows up to work), and daily 'friendly favors', or hook ups if you want to be brash (again, if he decides to show up).

you spend so much time with him, you really don't understand why he doesn't get the hint and just ask you out already!

you're know he can be naive, but you're still surprised that he truly believes you're loving on him as a friend. he's so hesitant, like you'd refuse him if he tried to kiss you or hold you close, even though you've shown him time and again that you crave his touch and affection.

you can tell he really appreciates your help though, always being gentle when he uses your mouth and throat, and cleaning you up when he's done. he makes sure to tell you when he's about to cum, not wanting to make a mess, though you'd love it if he would.

at the end he always says "thank you" like the polite boy he is as if you're doing him a favor, when really, you're being quite selfish, taking everything he gives you with hidden desires and intentions. then he steps away from you with a blush, zips himself back into his pants, and pretends like he wasn't just whining and begging for your tongue.

today is different though.

today, you weren't the one to make the first move.

steven was.

"love. could we--instead of you helping me...i was wondering if i could use my mouth on you."

"me?"

"if you don't want to--"

"no! i-i...let's try it out."

ok, this literally isn't my fault. i've been seeing steven posts/edits/fics/ideas BLASTED on my dashboard. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO IF NOT WRITE SOMETHING INDULGENT 😭

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #good night y'all #quick thot before bed

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st4rymoon · 11 months

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Guilty Pleasure

Pairing 〉 Steven Grant x Fem Reader

Genre 〉 Smut and Fluff

Warnings 〉Somnophilia, dubcon!, teasing, unprotected sex, pet names (doll, love), P n V, slightly Pervy Steven, dry humping, steven slightly fighting his urges, creampie

Summary 〉Anxious about Stevens's distance, you confront him about a situation that happened while reading one of his books. Little did you know the reason for his distance was to keep temptation away.

You tried to hide the concern on your face as you notice Steven's eyes avoiding yours ever since you walked in.

You had no clue what you did for him to be doing this. Suddenly your mind flashed back to 2 days ago, you were reading one of his many books about Egyptian mythology. While putting it back on his shelf, a few books fell and one happened to land flat open causing one of the pages to slightly rip.

Steven reassured you it was ok, but you started convincing yourself it did bother him, he was just being his usual sweet self to avoid conflict with you.

“Steven?”

You can see his body tense as his name rolls off your tongue “y- yeah?” he shakily replies as you sit beside him.

“What’s wrong? You haven’t looked at me or even spoken to me since I got here. Do you want me to leave? Give you some space?”

Steven almost falls off the bed in protest “NO! No no”. “It’s about the book isn’t it? I already ordered you another, it’ll be here soon” you nodded. You can see the confusion on his face “Book? What book love?”

“The book that fell off your shelf when I was putting one away remember? The page ripped a little?” You mutter while feeling the guilt of ruining one of his beloved books fill you.

Stevens's face softens as he finally connects the dots, you thought he was mad at you? for a book?

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself seeing how worried you were “Doll trust must me I’m not mad, and definitely not for that little accident” he smiles reassuringly.

You feel yourself finally relax as he connects his soft doe eyes to yours. Steven felt a little guilty knowing you were beating yourself up for this whole book fiasco.

When you walked into his apartment with his favorite skirt and a silk blouses on, he knew if he looked at you once he’d be fighting himself not to pin you onto the bed and fuck you senseless.

Steven wasn’t one to show that side of himself, he kept all his dirty thoughts and urges to himself. “Come” Steven smiles, extending his arms out signaling for you to bury yourself in his arms.

Burying your face in his neck, your legs completely straddle him for a more comfortable position. His body jerks slightly as you rub up against his crotch, your soft sways as you hug him tightly making him anxious at the thought of you feeling him grow hard.

“Love you” you mutter softly as you press a soft kiss on his warm flesh, his arms wrapped around your waist, slightly lifting you in hopes to hide his growing bulge.

“Love you too doll” he hums as he places you onto his lap softly, his mind under control or rather distracting himself with counting the objects in his room to avoid his thoughts.

Both of you stay in this position, his eyes on the television as you stay cuddled onto his body. You were semi-drained from work and the stress of worrying about Steven being mad at you. You couldn’t help but fall asleep as soon as you fell into his arms.

Steven smiled at your shallow breaths, your chest rising slightly with each breath as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “Always so pretty” he hums, his index finger softly running down your cheek as he places a kiss on your head.

Just as he was about to reach for the control, he heard a soft noise come from between his arms. Low whines escaped you as you squirmed in his lap.

Steven almost choked as you pressed yourself onto him, hips swaying softly as you rode out the sex dream you were having. His head falls back at the feeling, he felt like this was both the best and worst kind of torture.

It got worse once he heard his name come from your mouth, the low ‘stevens’ and muffled whines making him whine quietly.

He was having a debate in his mind. He wanted to move your pretty white panties to the side and fuck you awake, but the other protested. You’ve both only slept with each other once and neither of you never talked about fucking each other awake.

Although you’d never admit it, a part of you wore the outfit in hopes of him fucking you. The first time you both had sex, you could tell he was holding back.

His eyes were blown out, breaths unsteady as he looked down at you, your eyes closed and shirt slightly riding down just enough to let him see your plump tits spilling out of your bra.

He told himself one button wouldn’t hurt. His fingers impressively unbuttoned one of your buttons, then another, and another. By the time he finished, your shirt was fully open, the silk fabric gliding on your skin as you swayed onto him.

His self-control went out the window once he heard you beg, the soft whine in your voice as you cried his name. He needed to hear your pretty whines for himself.

His arms lift you slightly, his free hand sliding his sweats down as far as he could before moving your panties to the side.

He was burning up, his breathing louder than it was before as he ran two fingers through your puffy folds. Your cunt coating his two fingers as he took in your gummy walls.

His cock was leaking with pre cum as he took his fingers out of you and stroked himself with your slick. A loud sigh leaves him as he feels himself twitch.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. But he couldn’t help it, your soft flesh and pretty cunt rubbing against him as you slept.

He adjusts himself below you, a loud whine leaving him as he rubs his tip through your folds. He’d never felt like this before, his body was tingling, and eyes blown out as he watches you closely.

You lowered yourself onto him softly, his body trembling as you clench around him. Low gasps from your sleeping form as he gave you time to adjust. His fingers dug into your hips, his head on your shoulder as he kept himself calm.

His hands lift you softly, his hips softly thrusting up as he groaned at the feeling. His soft persona left as soon as he picked the pace up. His hips slammed into you harshly, your eyes fluttering open as you felt him stretching you.

“St- Steven?” You mutter as he fucks deeper into you. “I know baby, I’m sorry. Couldn’t help it” he says in almost a embarrassed voice. “It’s oka- o- it’s-” you try reassuring him but can’t manage a word out as he takes your blouse off completely.

Your body was burning, the feeling of his warm hands piercing your skin make you clench. “Love you, lo- love you so much” he seethes through his teeth.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to hold yourself up, his pretty brown curls sticking to his forehead as the sweat dripped down his face.

Heavy pants and moans fill the room as he picks up the pace.

“St-eve-“

Steven swore he could’ve came right there. Hearing the sound of your voice shakily cry out his name made him twitch.

He was lost in bliss, his eyes watching the way he slid in and out of you perfectly made him bite his lip. The white ring of slick forming at the base of his cock makes him hiss.

“Always so pretty” he hums, his hand holding your face up to his as he watches your watery eyes roll back as he pulls you into a kiss.

Both of you moan into each other, the sweet taste of ice cream from his snacking before lingering on his tongue as you sloppily kissed.

You could feel the knot forming in your stomach. Steven could see it, the way your stomach clenched and high-pitched whines escaped you.

“I’ve got you love” his raspy voice purred as you clenched around him. Your nails dig into his arms, a loud moan leaving you as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

A low chuckle leaves him as he watches you shake. His lap was a complete mess. Your slick covering his lap, slightly wetting his sweats as he sloppily fucks into you.

“Gonna fuck my cum into you doll, this pretty look on your face is driving me crazy” he huffs.

You nod at his words, the thought of him cumming in you making you clench as his breaths grow heavier.

Steven couldn’t believe this was happening, he swore it could’ve been a dream. The only way he knew he wasn’t dreaming was the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, he loved when you bruised him up.

“Go- on- fuckk” Steven cries out as he sloppily fucks his cum into you. Both of your moans synced as he fucked you full. The feeling of his warm seed filling you was addicting. You knew you’d start birth control as soon as you felt him leaking out of you.

“Love you so much, so much” he pants as you fall onto his chest. Your sweaty bodies connected as he moved the hair out of your face.

“I’m sorr-“

You knew what he was going to apologize for. You could care less that he fucked you awake for the first time, you loved it more than you expected. “Shhh” you hummed as you shook your head “Don’t apologize”.

He let out a sigh as you hugged him tightly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up”

#moon knight #moon kingdom #steven grant #steven grant smut #oscar issac imagine #oscar issac hernandez estrada #oscar issac fic #oscar issac smut #steven smut #moon knight smut #marvel #marvel smut

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belovedspector · 4 months

Text

Leap Year

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x gn!reader and Marc Spector x gn!reader)

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Jake has never celebrated his birthday. He didn’t even have a birthday, until you urged him to pick a date. Of course, he picks the most chaotic date possible.

Content: Fluff, one use of a pet name (honey)

A/N: I was thinking about the fact that it’s a leap year, and this idea sort of just came to me. I don’t have much else to say about it. Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

“When’s your birthday?” you ask out of the blue one day over dinner.

Jake pauses, forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth. Carefully, he places the fork back on his plate and says, “Don’t have one.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Jake shrugs. “I know Marc’s is March ninth. I didn’t exactly check the calendar on the day I first showed up.”

“What about Steven?” Your food is now totally forgotten.

“Same as me, I guess,” Jake says. He looks into the reflection of his glass, likely listening to one of his alters.

You sit there for a few moments, deep in thought. Finally, you look up at Jake. “Well, then you’ll have to pick one.”

“What?”

“You and Steven should pick your own birthdays.”

Oh, boy. Jake knows that look in your eyes, knows from the way they’re sparkling that there’s no way you’re letting this go.

“Look, I dunno—” he tries.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” you encourage him.

Jake knows there’s no getting out of this. “Fine,” he relents, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually is. Really, he thinks your enthusiasm is adorable, and he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

You cheer. “Great! Do you want me to help you pick a date? I should have some astrology books around here somewhere—”

“Astrology?” Jake scoffs. “I don’t need astrology. I already know what date I want.”

“Oh? Which one?” You lean forward in anticipation.

“February twenty-ninth.” Jake sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“February twenty-ninth?” you repeat. “Why?”

Jake shrugs. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, I—” You sigh. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll put it in my calendar,” you say with a smile. “Now, we just need to find a birthday for Steven.”

“He’s already blabbing on about it.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “I think he’ll take you up on the astrology book offer.”

“Perfect!” you say. He can see the moment you get that faraway look in your eye, no doubt already analyzing which sign would match Steven best.

Seasons change, time marches on, and Jake completely forgets about the birthday conversation. Sure, Steven had made a big fuss over choosing his own date for a while, but, once that was settled, there was no need to think about the matter anymore.

So, it comes as a shock when, on a random winter day, Steven has called out of work and insisted that Jake take the body. Jake tries to argue, to get Marc on his side, but it’s no use. His alters slip deeper into the headspace, leaving Jake alone for the time being.

He notices you’re already out of bed, and it’s at that moment he hears movement coming from the kitchen. He throws on a t-shirt and sweatpants and gets up to investigate. Sure enough, there you are, singing to yourself as you stand at the stove.

Jake has spent a lifetime creeping in the shadows, so he’s gotten very good at sneaking up on people. Silently, he moves across the kitchen and wraps his arms around you from behind. You startle before laughing and leaning into the touch.

“Good morning, Jake,” you say brightly.

“Morning, honey,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “What’re you doing?”

“Making pancakes.”

Jake perks up at that. “What’s the occasion?”

You laugh. “Don’t you know what today is?”

Jake thinks about it. “March first?” he tries.

“It’s a leap year, silly,” you correct him, “so it’s February twenty-ninth. Happy birthday!”

Oh, right, that.

“You didn’t have to do anything special,” Jake protests.

“Are you kidding? This is the first-ever birthday you’re celebrating. We’ve gotta make it special.”

Jake feels something warm blooming in his chest, a feeling that is occurring more and more often when he spends time with you.

You plate the now-finished pancakes—banana, his favorite—and lead him over to the kitchen table, which has already been set. You dish out the pancakes and pour two glasses of juice before joining Jake at the table.

“Is this why Steven and Marc were being weird this morning?” Jake asks as he cuts into his pancakes.

You chew thoughtfully. “Probably. I swore them to secrecy.”

Jake grunts. “Really, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Oh, Jake,” you say with a grin, “we’re just getting started.”

Jake hates drawing attention to himself. It’s the antithesis of his being; at least, it used to be, when he was still keeping himself hidden from his alters and working for Khonshu. Now, even though he can be more present, it still makes him uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. So, being the center of attention, the “birthday boy,” isn’t really his style.

Of course, you know all this, and you plan the day around it. There will be no impromptu singing of “Happy Birthday” by waiters and random patrons in a restaurant—not on your watch. Instead, you spend a nice, quiet day together, walking around the city like a couple of tourists. It’s a mild day, not nearly as cold as it could be, so you even get to spend some time in the park, one of Jake’s favorite spots to relax.

It’s rare for Jake to get to spend a whole day with you like this. Sure, he and his alters have figured out a pretty fair schedule, but between work and life, it doesn’t always work out. Some days, he only catches glimpses of you in the morning, and come evening you’re so tired that he practically has to carry you to bed.

On the way back to your home, you make a quick stop at a little building with a pink awning. “Lily’s Bakery,” the sign reads in looping cursive. You pop in quickly and return moments later with a matching pink box.

“What’s that?” Jake asks.

“You’ll see,” you say with a glint in your eye.

After you’ve cooked and eaten Jake’s favorite dinner, you bring out the pink box again. You tell Jake to close his eyes, and, with a little eye roll, he complies. There’s some rustling, the sound of a box opening, and the click of a lighter before you say, “Okay, open!”

Jake uncovers his eyes, and he’s shocked by the gasp that leaves him. In front of him is a chocolate chip cookie cake that you’ve added candles to. Blue letters spell out, “Happy Birthday Jake,” and there’s even a little taxi cab drawn with frosting.

“I hope this is okay,” you say quickly. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of cake…”

“Are you kidding? This is perfect,” Jake assures you, blinking back the tears in his eyes.

When you sing “Happy Birthday” to him in the comfort of your home, Marc and Steven join in from the headspace.

“Okay, blow out the candles and make a wish!” you say.

Jake doesn’t need any wishes. He already has everything he could ever want right in front of him.

“What about next year?” Jake asks as the two of you lay in bed that night.

“What do you mean?” You roll onto your side to face him.

“My birthday next year. Do we skip it?’

“Of course not,” you say. “We’ll just celebrate the day before or after.”

Jake hums.

“Is that okay?” you ask.

If you had asked Jake that a year ago, the answer would have been a flat-out “no.” He hated drawing attention to himself, hated being fussed over. He felt like he didn’t deserve it.

What a difference a year makes, though. Instead, he smiles at you and says, “That sounds nice.”

“Happy birthday, Jake,” you whisper, leaning over to kiss him softly before returning your head to the pillow. “I love you.”

By the time he murmurs back, “I love you, too,” you’re already asleep.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! Also, I have some ideas for follow-ups with Steven picking his birthday, plus celebrating Marc’s birthday, so let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in! :)

#moon knight #mcu #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #x reader #jace writes #jake lockley x reader #just realized i managed to spell lockley wrong in the tags whoops

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holylulusworld · 6 months

Text

Unwanted mate (Steve's version) - Angstober 29

Summary: Rejected. Humiliated. Left outside alone.

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!(fem) Reader

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, rejection, unrequited feelings, public nudity (non-sexual), shitty father, scenting, implied kidnapping (maybe?)

A/N: This is Steve’s version of this story Unwanted Mate (Bucky’s version)

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: D4: Maria Hill

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

In your world omegas are rare, sacred even.

This doesn’t mean every omega gets treated the way they deserve.

The time has come. The alpha of your pack has chosen your mate for you. He holds your elbow in a tight grip as he guides you along the endless hallways of the sanctuary.

Your heart thunders in your chest, and you silently pray this is not a dream. Alpha Prime chose the most desired alpha for you. The alpha of a befriended pack.

Steven Grant Rogers. He’s as tall and handsome as his name sounds on your tongue, and you hope he’ll be happy with your leader’s choice.

“I want you to be on your best behavior,” Alpha Prime whispers. “I know you are going to be a good omega for Rogers, but…he’s picky. Don’t anger him. He rejected a mate once. A bond with one of our omegas means a strong bond with his pack.”

“Yes, alpha prime,” you reply. “I know my place and will happily take my place next to the alpha you chose for me.”

You hide that Steve Rogers is the star of your restless nights. The first time you got a whiff of his scent you knew, he was your true mate. The blonde ignored your presence during get-togethers most of the time, but you are sure, he only tried to follow the strict rules of your pack.

No courting an omega if she’s not chosen. No contact with an unmated omega without the leader of her pack.

Walking next to the leader of your pack you try to remain calm, and not slick for the alpha he chose for you. Only the thought of being close to the alpha, and that he’ll touch you in front of your packs leaves you breathless.

“He will love you, my dear. You’re exactly what he wanted,” your leader says. “Sweet, smart, and…innocent.” Alpha Prime sounds a little less confident when you step toward Steve Rogers.

The alpha stands in the middle of the sanctuary, surrounded by the alphas of your pack and his. He dips his head to watch your leader and you get closer.

“Alpha prime of Moonstone,” Steve politely acknowledges your leader’s presence. “I see, you came with a gift.” He bows for you, and it makes your heart flutter wildly. “What can you tell me about her?”

“Alpha prime of Howling commando,” your leader reflects the respectful gesture. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. I chose her for you, Rogers of the howling commando.”

“I will consider your offering, Fury of Moonstone,” the alpha says. He holds out his hand for you. “Come here. Let our packs see you.”

You place your trembling hand into his large palm and allow Steve to lead you toward the middle of the sanctuary. “Don’t be afraid, doll. No one will hurt you here. You are among friends and allies.”

His voice is soft, but his eyes darken as you tremble in front of him. Steve shoves the thin robe you’re wearing down your shoulders, exposing your body to him and the packs.

“Omega,” Steve addresses you with your presentation. “Present for me.”

You immediately tilt your head to expose your untouched mating gland. Steve wraps his hand around your neck to run his thumb over your mating gland.

“Untouched in any way,” the leader of your pack casually says. It’s crude to talk about you like this, but in this world, it’s a normal procedure. He doesn’t mean to degrade or embarrass you. “She’s only yours.”

Steve hums, and drops his hand to your chest, warm hand running over one of your breasts. “So responsive,” he purrs feeling your nipple hardening under his touch.

The alpha leans closer to sniff at your neck, inhaling deeply. You only hope he can’t smell your arousal because you don’t want to be a needy omega close to this powerful alpha. “She smells pleasant but—”

Your breath catches in your throat as he steps away. Steve looks at you for a moment, considering his decision before he picks your robe up to throw it at you.

“She’s not the one I want,” the finalty in his voice makes every alpha in the room gasp. “I cannot mate her.”

The leader of your pack wraps you in his coat. He shakes his head at Steve as the alpha steps away, not sparing you another glance.

“You reject this perfect omega?” Your leader asks, stepping in front of you to protect you. The alphas of your pack follow his lead. They crowd you to make sure none of the foreign alphas tries to take advantage of your vulnerable state.

“I cannot mate her.”

Something inside of you breaks at his words. You don’t know what it is, but it causes physical pain. Breathing gets harder and you clutch your hands to your chest.

Moments ago, the alpha touched you gently, even called your scent pleasant only to reject you in front of all the alphas you know, and respect.

“So be it,” Fury booms. He turns his back on Steve, a sign of disrespect. “My dear, go with Maria. She will help you.” He softly speaks to you, nodding at his right-hand woman, and one of the rare female alphas in your pack. “Maria, make sure she’s comfortable after this disrespectful treatment.”

“I chose not to mate that omega,” Steve argues. “I have the right to reject her.”

“You rejected every omega so far,” Fury turns back around to glare at Steve with his good. “No one ever disrespected a member of my pack the way you did today. There will be no bond between our packs. Not now. Not ever.”

Fury’s words are final. He doesn’t listen when Bucky, Steve’s right-hand man and second in commando tries to reason with his leader. The leader of your pack walks away, and his pack follows him.

“And some of the scent killer please,” your voice is barely above a whisper today. After Steve rejected you in front of your pack, it’s hard for you to feel like yourself. Your bubbly personality got swallowed by the dark pit in your chest that Steve left of your heart.

“Which one?” The clerk politely asks. “Miss?”

“I’m not sure.” Unsure which scent killer you should buy you helplessly glance at the clerk. “Can you recommend one? I must hide my scent and never did this before.”

“No problem, miss. That’s my job. We will find the right scent killer for you.”

“She’s hiding in her room all day, alpha prime. All day she’s weeping and whimpering. We thought after you chose her to become Steve Rogers’ mate that she’d leave her home. What shall we do now? A rejected omega is worthless to her family.”

“You should not talk like that about your daughter,” Fury’s jaw ticks as he stares at your father. “Y/N did nothing wrong. She got wronged by Steve Rogers. I was sure she was the mate he wanted and then he rejected her without a reason. This is on me, not her.”

“Alpha prime,” your father gasps. “Don’t defend my unworthy daughter. Something must be wrong with her. She always had her head in the clouds, and her nose in a book. No wonder the alpha rejected her. Maybe we should send her to a convent.”

“What are you saying? This is insanity!”

“No alpha will claim her now, alpha prime. Another prime rejected her. There is no hope. She’s a liability, nothing else.”

“I’m responsible for her downfall, I’ll take the blame,” Fury raises to his full height. He uses his alpha voice to make your father pliant. “If you want to send her off, I’ll take her in. She will not be punished for my mistake.”

His scent hits you out of nowhere. For weeks you didn’t leave the house only to scent the alpha rejecting you close by the moment you left the safety of your sanctuary at Fury’s house.

“No,” you whisper and drop your gaze. “He can’t be here. I must—” You walk in the opposite direction to get away from his scent.

It must be a cosmic joke that you run into the alpha breaking you down to nothing after you managed to leave your bed for the first time in days.

“I knew it was you. Wait,” his voice makes you stop in your tracks. You want to fight your instinct, but his alpha command forces you to wait for him. “I scented you from across the street.”

Steve steps behind you to bury his face in your neck. “I need to go.” You weakly reply. “Let me go.”

“I scented you, and knew it was you,” he repeats while sniffing along your neck. “Fury took you away that day and didn’t let me explain things. I couldn’t mate you because of an old bond I had to break first.”

“I don’t understand…” you sniffle silently. “Please let me go.”

“My first omega, I lost her years ago. When we were both still so young. Barely grown pups. I wanted to be sure that I could move on and visit her grave. But the leader of your pack insisted on meeting you too soon. I wasn’t…ready,” he breathes in your neck. “I had to say goodbye to Peggy first.”

“It’s been months,” you argue. “You should find a new omega then. Maybe one suiting your taste and fulfilling your every wish.”

“I talked to your pack leader a month ago. He refused to let me court you,” Steve nuzzles you. “He said, I need to earn the right to court you, and that he won’t force you to become my mate.”

“I cannot become your mate. You rejected me. Our rules say, you lost the right to mate me,” you sigh feeling his nose brush your mating gland. “I cannot become yours, and I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

“I was a fool and tried to fight my instinct. I knew the moment you stood in front of me that I’d do anything for you, and I will,” he wraps his arms around your waistline. “I don’t give a shit about Fury’s rules. You’ll be mine…”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader #steverogersbingo #a/b/o #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #female reader #kinktober vs flufftober 2023 #Unwanted mate (Steve's version) - Angstober 29

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moonknixght · 1 month

Text

Fooling Steven Grant HCs [afab reader]

CRAZY CONCEPT but just hear me out wc: 760

⋆ The whole thing started the night Steven came over after an extra shift-- to see you peeling off a transparent mask that stuck to your skin. Naturally, It didn't look like a face mask, but instead more like an actual layer of skin.

⋆ Obviously Steven isn't dumb enough to think that it's actually your skin…

"Does this brand of mask hurt when you're removing it?"

Unless….

⋆ ..Unless you've seen countless trends of people playfully gaslighting their boyfriends about 'shedding' after periods. And obviously, this was too good of an opportunity to give up.

⋆ "What mask?"

"Th-? The one you're taking off right now, love."

"Steven… that's not a mask.."

"Wh-"

"It's skin! I'm doing my monthly shedding."

⋆ Oh the confusion in his face was palpable. At first it was like, 'You're joking, right?' kind of bewilderment, denoted by the dopey smile on his face while his brows knitted in confusion.

⋆ but that declined into actual confusion and surprise when he noticed your expressions didn't have any sign of goofing off. Only you were aware of the struggle of holding it together.

⋆ "Girls don't.. shed.. do they?"

"They do, Steven."

⋆ You could almost feel bad for him. But your reassurance kinda made him back off for a bit and retreat back into the bedroom. You were disappointed that he didn't have a crazy reaction.

⋆ But boy were you in for a treat when you came back to the bedroom. Of course, Steven, was obsessively scrolling through his phone, eyes concentrated on the headlines but as soon as he noticed you step in..

⋆ "Doesn't say anythin’ about shedding, does it? No."

He sooo proudly showed off the phone screen to you, but you already saw this coming. You knew Steven like the back of your hand, of course he was going to try sass you.

⋆ "Yeah.. that's because it's a secret. We don't really say it to all men. Because of like.. the salem witch trials. Imagine if everyone found out that women can shed skin like a snake."

⋆ He was going to call it ridiculous, but you somehow made sense, in a very, very odd way. But That didn't mean he was completely going to trust you on this yet, even if he loved you to the end of the world.

⋆ "But what about the men that know? Like.. me."

⋆ "Think about it Steven, I wouldn't be making this so obvious if I didn't trust you enough to hold this huge secret." (that was the first truth in a bed of lies, you did trust Steven with alot of things)

⋆ The best part was that you can see his brain short-circuiting. Steven is one of the most smartest people you know, so seeing such moments is very very special

⋆ Now the thing is, practically, he has small social circle, Which means the people he can ask this to is also minute. Obviously he cant ask this to Donna!

⋆ He's tried Marc but Marc is kinda gullible, the moment he broke this to him, Marc believed it because it wouldn't make sense why you'd lie?

⋆ Surely Jake can help! He's been involved with many women before, right? That's what he claimed. Anyways, Jake admits that it's true. Because god forbid Jake loses a chance to fuck with Steven

⋆ Layla came around the other day, and his mistake was asking her right infront of you. All you had to do was to show Layla the 'look' behind Steven's back, and she caught on easily

⋆ "You told him?" Layla said, just as Steven noticed that she was looking at you

⋆ but that was the nail in the coffin; Steven actually believed that women shed their skin

⋆ It was a quiet month after that incident, that even you forgot about it; until you got your period again and by the end of the week, he actually showed up with moisturizers and sweets because "It looked like it hurt to peel a layer of yourself off" :(

⋆ Steven, your sweet summer child, had bought you care products because he actually believed what you said

⋆ Obviously after that, you let him in on the actual secret that it was just a transparent mask sheet and his immediate reaction was rejoicing that he was right

"I wasn't going crazy then!! Women don't shed!!"

⋆ The absurdity of that sentence was just amazing, that you couldn't help but laugh and subsequently, it makes him laugh too

⋆ Ending the night (and this horrendous lie) by sharing the chocolate Steven bought and talking about it together is most definitely a welcome conclusion <33

#steven grant x reader #moon knight x you #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant x y/n #moonknight x reader #steven grant hcs #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #moon knight x reader #moonknight x you

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spacecowboyhotch · 9 months

Note

NOISE with any member of the system, and make it dirtyyyyy 😏😏😏

White Noise

summary: when Steven hears a sound in the night, he thinks he’s coming to your rescue.

pairing: afab!reader x steven grant (mentions of marc and jake)

contents: 18+/nsfw/MINORS DNI, reader listening to spicy audios, masturbation, embarrassment, kissing, fluff, get together

wc: 1k

an: here you are my loveee, i hope you enjoy this. it turned a little softer than I’d anticipated but i see potential for something a little spicier in the future 😏😏. also yes reader is listening to a quinn audio, @/quinn SPONSOR ME. (banner below is @cafekitsune)

sumner blurbs masterlist | moonknight masterlist

Steven is a light sleeper. Marc could sleep through a nuclear war, and Jake…well he hardly ever sleeps. But, Steven stirs at the softest of sounds.

It’s not often these days that the system switches without permission, especially not in the middle of slumber, but while Marc has fallen asleep earlier in the night it’s Steven who wakes to this noise in the middle of the night.

Despite its obvious disruption the noise is soft, a simple hum that comes from the shared drywall between your room and his. The next sound is a little louder— it comes from your mouth, he’s sure. A muffled cry, one that has his heart racing and his worry up.

He jumps out of bed with grace— a grace he’s still growing accustomed to. That and the other to men in his head, the old pigeon that rules parts of their lives. He slips into the hallway, starting the short walk to your room. As he gets closer the sounds get clear, louder.

Are you crying? Did you hurt yourself? Or watch another sad romance film that brought you to tears?

Yes, as he gets closer the sounds do get clearer— especially to Marc. His mind always goes straight to the gutter with you even though he tries his best to be respectful. But he’s imagined what you would sound like during sex time and time again and right now, you sound pretty close to the edge. Where he wants to lead you over and over.

Wait Steven, Marc calls out in the headspace but it’s too late.

He’s opened the door, and his eyes find you immediately. He opens his mouth to say something but it dies in his throat at the sight of you splayed out in bed.

The moonlight must be made for you, the way it feels like a spotlight, lighting up your skin. His eyes slowly travel down your body, drinking in every detail about you.

There’s a white set of overhead earphones on your head, your eyes squeeze shut as you moan softly. It must be the reason why he could hear you, the reason you haven’t moved yet to yell at him. You’re in an oversized t-shirt that’s seen much love— it would go down your knees if it wasn’t currently scrunched up at your belly. Like this he has a view that has only ever lived in his dreams, in their dreams, Marc and Jake’s too. They can all deny it to each other all they want, but at the end of the day they share a brain. And though they’d all discovered it differently, they all share a deep desire for you.

God, he shouldn’t be doing this. He should close his eyes right now and walk back into his room. Apologize to you and forget this ever happened. He’s about to do just that when you whimper his name. His eyes fly to your own once more, he’s sure he’s caught now but your eyes are still closed.

Are you…thinking of him? Getting yourself off and thinking of him? The idea has his knees weak.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Steven,” You whine, back arching as you reach the peak of pleasure. He can see the your slick on the head of the vibrator, and reflexively licks his lips.

There’s no mistaking it now. You’re thinking of him, cumming and thinking of him. He shifts on his feet, all too aware of how hard he is right now. It seems Marc and Jake are nowhere to be found, they must be in just as much shock as he is.

You shriek, sitting up and covering yourself, the moment causing your headphones to fall off your head. “What the fuck? What the fuck are you doing in here?”

Steven’s cheeks burn, turning a bright red as he stumbles over his words, “I—I’m sorry, I— you— I thought you were crying and I— I should go.”

“You thought I was crying?”

“Well, yeah, I sort of…heard you whimper and I thought you might need some…comforting. But that is obviously not the case, you’ve just taken quite good care of yourself,” He says, wincing as he regrets the words immediately.

“That’s um, that’s sweet of you. Did you— you heard I imagine.”

“Heard? Oh, um, not if you didn’t want me to. I’ll change my name. Actually, I don’t even have a name anymore. Taken care of,” He jokes, fiddling with his fingers.

“I’ve made things so awkward, I’m sorry. I know it’s not like that for you. For any of you.”

“You think…you think we don’t feel the same?” He asks incredulously.

You stare back at him, completely confused. Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Your mouth opens to ask but nothing comes out, your throat dry.

“You drive us mad, love,” He says once he realizes that you won’t speak.

Jake and Marc immediately start to protest, but what’s done is done. There’s some twinkle in your eye, a glimmer of hope that what Steven says is true. And while this is scary for all of them, when met with the thought of rejecting you, neither of them could stomach it.

“Really?”

“Really. Can I?” He points to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, uh, sure,” You awkwardly move your vibrator and phone to the nightstand to clear some room for him.

He comes to sit, not too far but near enough to reach your hand, squeezing it, “I know we’ve skipped quite a bit on the standards of dating. The whole living together, and well now this. And I know there’s…three of us but would you—“

“Yes,” You say easily, not letting him finish.

He chuckles, “I haven’t even asked completely, love.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’d do anything with you.”

Your words warm him from the inside out, breeding confidence. He cups your cheek, leaning forward to press his mouth to yours in a sweet, tentative kiss. You melt against him, hand raising to rest over his own. He smells good, like pine and citrus and the feeling of his lips against yours makes you feel like you’re floating.

“I’m sorry that I walked in on you like this,” He mumbles into your mouth through a smile.

You lean back, a wide grin on your face as you shake your head a little, “I’m not.”

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x afab!reader #moonknight x reader #moonknight system x reader #moonknight fanfiction #steven grant smut #moonknight smut #summer blurbs #not sfw #arson writes

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one-fin-wonder · 9 months

Text

Requested Headcanon: The Moon Boys Being Protective When You Get Catcalled

A/N: Again, I think this was a tad OOC, but I love what I wrote for Jake sooooo here. BTW: this was requested by a best friend so bestie if you're seeing this: love youuuu, I hope you liked it.

Marc Spector

He would become tense and stop in his tracks as soon as he heard the words fall from the person’s mouth

“What did you say?” He would instantly become defensive for you

“No I want to hear what you had to say to them? Not so cocky now huh?”

He’d put his arm around you in a protective stance as he glares at the person who had the audacity to catcall you

If the person persists with phrases such as “If they didn’t want attention they shouldn’t have dressed like that.” or “what? It’s just a compliment.” Marc would get too upset and Steven or Jake would have to take over

Steven Grant

Steven would look at you making sure you’re okay before he confronts the jerk who called out to you

He would squeeze your hand gently with a small nod as he turns to the person

“Oye! Learn some respect you fucking doughnut!” he’d continue trying to comfort you gently as he yells at the person

“You need to be taught manners, mate.” he’d turn away holding you close as he tries to calm you down

“I’m so sorry, love. You shouldn’t have to hear that.” He’d walk you away from the jerk and he’d put an arm around you gently

“How about *Insert favorite treat here*, huh?” He’d try to bring up the mood and turn this into a positive for you

Jake Lockley

He would be as tense as a brick wall

“¡CÁLLATE MADRE BARATA DE PUTA!” (“Shut up you cheap mother fucker”) He’d practically throw himself towards this dude like a rabid animal

He would crack his knuckles “está bien querida, yo me encargaré de esto,” (“It's alright dear, I'll take care of this,”) he’d mutter as he stands in front of the now terrified dude

“Wait in the car,” Ah yes his famous car. He’d try his best to make you feel safe whenever you were in it. A safe haven if you will.

He wouldn’t hold back his wrath. That’s all I’ll say about the hell he will give the person who dared to catcall his beloved.

He’d come back to the car taking his gloves off carefully and putting them in his pocket, “¿Estás bien? Ya no te molestarán.” (“Are you okay? They won’t bother you anymore.”)

He’d hold you close, placing a kiss on your forehead gently,

Once he knew you were okay he’d squeeze your hand gently “Let’s go home, yeah?”

#moon knight headcanon #steven grant headcanon #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight system #jake lockely fluff #jake lockely x reader fluff #jake lockley headcanon #marc spector fluff #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector headcanon #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley

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januaryembrs · 11 months

Text

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO MASTERLIST

DESCRIPTION: She’s all Steven can think about in between the missing days and the American man inside his head. When Harrow’s jackals leaves Marc with a difficult choice, his hectic life is spun out of control as Seth, God of Violence and Chaos, comes to reap his reward in the form of a woman from Soho with a dark past and a crush on Steven Grant. (Lightly inspired by Last Night in Soho dir. Edgar Wright)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Sex trafficking/prostitution. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Abuse ex-boyfriend/lover, death, murder, gore, drug use. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be some implication to dubcon content. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. AGAIN MINORS DNI. * = smut warning

STEVEN GRANT & MARC SPECTOR X (EVENTUAL) AVATAR!READER. Friends to lovers trope (Steven Grant) Sunshine x Grumpy trope (Marc Spector), Light smut, explicit language, no use of Y/N, goes by nickname Dove. I ADORE LAYLA EL-FAOULY so she is still in the narrative but as Dove’s reluctant friend. Female!reader. AFAB!reader. I am English and do not have DID but have tried my best to do all the research I could on the themes I talk about (Ancient Egyptian culture/history/language. Experiencing DID etc) but if I am misinformed and offend anyone, know I am truly sorry and am more than happy to hear anyone’s corrections in my inbox and will do my best to fix it!

main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE - Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted.

CHAPTER TWO - She wakes up with a killer headache and a million questions when she realises two things: 1. the man in her room is not infact Steven Grant and 2. her body no longer belongs to her but to the God of Death.

CHAPTER THREE - With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward.

CHAPTER FOUR - Dove wakes up in Steven’s apartment for the second time covered in blood with only one thing on her mind. What the hell happened last night?

CHAPTER FIVE - Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.

CHAPTER SIX - Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.

CHAPTER SEVEN - Marc, his ex-wife and his supposed mistress head to Mogart’s to find Senfu’s sarcophagus, whatever could go wrong when the god of Chaos wants to be involved?

CHAPTER EIGHT - Dove, Marc and Layla escape Mogart’s with only more dead ends and questions unanswered. They’re running out of time before Harrow reaches the tomb, but one thing keeps sticking in Layla’s head more than the rest. Why does Dove look so guilty?

CHAPTER NINE * - Layla, Steven and Dove set off towards Ammit’s tomb across the dunes, only Steven and Dove have a heavy confession they’ve each been meaning to make.

CHAPTER TEN - Marc finds out the truth about Dove, and pays the mortal price.

CHAPTER ELEVEN -

CHAPTER TWELVE -

CHAPTER THIRTEEN -

CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

CHAPTER FIFTEEN -

Comment or send an ask to be tagged in new chapters!

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ivystoryweaver · 10 months

Text

With You part 12

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

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->

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22 @thursdaywritings @scoliobean @peregrine-nation @local-mr-frog @ren-ni @valkyrie05x @randomhoex @tsukkie-daisuke @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @cicithemess2000 @bitchotine

dividers by saradika

535 notes · View notes

mahalshairyballs · 2 years

Text

Small Long ramble about Jake and character development again

I've been talking to a couple fellow fans in the MK fandom (🤍 love getting to know new people from everywhere), and for the most part we have very similar views of the character(s), I found my niche!

I do remember once, one of them and I had a slightly different view about Jake and how selfless/selfish he is vis-a-vis his alters.

I see Jake as, well, a bunch of contradictions. But he's a bit more selfish imo than some people might see him.

Which got me a bit worried about how people would see my Jake at the beginning of the fic ?

To me, Jake being more selfish makes total sense; he's been burdened by a lot of responsibilities without being even able to interact with the others. He's used to working alone even more so than Marc is. It's not as if Khonshu was really a partner or an equal.

So he is selfless in the sense that he takes his responsibility of being their physical protector seriously and they can always rely on him for that. He also takes the responsibility of justice and vengeance very seriously too. So he is empathetic to others' plight (obviously, and I'm sidetracking since I was specifically talking of him with Marc&Steven).

However, he is also selfish because, well, he doesn't have his shit together at all internally. And people with mental illnesses or issues can't be completely selfless, they just can't. Dealing with what they have takes a big part of them, a lot of energy - which can then come off as selfishness (Marc is the same - or should be - but I have another post queued for him about that).

So : he's used to being completely alone and rely on himself, he has his own issues to deal with, he wants a real life - like it was always denied to him before, so he's desperate to keep the place he carved for himself within their life -, and finally he resents them.

He resents them for all these previous reasons.

It was just easier to put his anger and frustration about his situation on someone, so he did. Jake thought that anyway they would never interact.

Jake's resentment for Steven calmed down after Steven really put in the effort to listen to him and understand his pov. That's when they started to get along.

While with Marc they just fed off of each other's hate and it grew even worse.

Jake would be like if Marc, after Steven got mean to him, got angry but then never stopped being angry at him after that interaction (when in the show Marc often forgave Steven, and when they interacted again Marc was back to talking to him calmly and being nice to him). Jake doesn't forget, and doesn't forgive easily.

I only wanted to make sure (future readers?) people knew that this Jake ^ is how he *starts off*, *before* his character development. He himself has a big character development to go through.

And to also remind people that Jake, if we take all the times he's fronted up to now and added them up as life experiences - Jake would have the life experience of a toddler. That's why his experiences are out of wack. If you dropped Jake in the desert with absolutely nothing but his clothes on him, he'd be able to survive and save themselves just fine. But there's very basic lifeskills he doesn't have; and he's immature and selfish (with his alters).

Sometimes it feels to me like Jake is interpreted in only one of two ways. There's the very wrong idea that he's 'evil' or 'bad' or whatever in one corner of the fandom, and then the side of the fandom who want to defend Jake make him into the complete opposite? Almost like another cinnamon roll who does nothing wrong and has had no bad thoughts in his entire life (I'm exaggerating, but barely).

Jake is neither. Jake is a complex character who has sides of both.

Is Jake a cinnamon roll (or mew mew) ? Well maybe he started off that way, maybe he started off being similar to Steven (and I've mentioned that in another meta), but that's pretty moot right now. Because he's not anymore.

Maybe deep down he still is, maybe that's what he'll be at the end of his character development, but at the beginning of a season 2 ? He's not.

He's a mess of emotions, and most of them aren't pretty. He has *a lot* to learn, which gives him a lot of space to grow though; since with the very short lenght of his ife experiences, Jake himself doesn't know who Jake is at the beginning of season 2. He has some vague ideas about what he likes/dislikes and what he wants, but most of them are still surface level. So of course he'll be selfish! He has so much life to experience !

All this meta is presented to you by a reaction Jake gave me in one scene.

- Scene- cw suicide

After Marc accidentally fronted for a brief moment and took that few minutes to try killing themselves; Layla, with all the strength and patience she could muster, managed to prevent it. She convinced Marc to go 'sleep' in his mind, and promise to her that he'd come back when he'd feel ready.

Marc gave his place to Steven, and Layla let her heartbreak and distress slip out. She didn't want to lose Marc again, and she didn't know what else she could do to help him.

Steven was there for her. He was also worried. He told her they were seeing a therapist but Marc hadn't fronted yet in any of their sessions. Layla asked Steven to please take care of Marc. Steven responded that he'd do the best he could.

A day or so later. Layla saw Jake. She knew she couldn't really tell him to take care of Marc like she asked Steven but if only Jake could -

Layla 'Go easy on him okay? He's not doing well'

Jake looked at her, an eyebrow raised, then shrugged - making an undistinguishable noise like a grumble.

Layla 'Jake please'

Jake 'I'm not his shrink, if he's not looking for trouble then he won't find any. It's that easy'

That wasn't reassuring to Layla at all. Maybe Jake thought what he said was reassuring- saying that he didn't go out of his way to antagonize Marc, but he hadn't said anything about trying to be more patient and understanding with him.

And that could mean trouble. Steven had told her that Marc found himself fronting by mistake that night because all three of them were in the middle of a big argument.

So, with scenes like these, it's important to keep in mind everything I said above.

And it's not that Jake doesn't care about Marc, he does actually care quite a lot about him (but it's when you're heartbroken that you can be the nastiest right?), but he doesn't want to care about him. For all the reasons I explained above.

So is my Jake like comics!Jake ? No, not yet. But he's getting there.

15 notes · View notes

m00nsbaby · 9 months

Text

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

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melodygatesauthor · 10 months

Text

Bossy Boy

Steven Grant X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by @xbellaxcarolinax

Kinks - Pushy Bottom + Messy Orgasm

Summary

You and Steven are trying out the dom/sub lifestyle and it's...it's not going according to plan.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dom/sub relationship (sorta), Steven and Reader are trying it out, p in v creampie, sex, smut, pwp

Word Count: 686

“Steven, what have I told you?”

“To be patient love but…” he whined and arched his hips upward, the fat head of his leaking cock brushing your folds, “come on, I think I’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

Steven wasn’t good at being a sub, and if you were being honest, you weren’t the best dom either. You complied, lowering yourself over him, something you were pretty sure you were supposed to make him beg for, but you wanted it as badly as he did and you had little self control.

It sounded like you sat down in a puddle, given the accumulation of both yours and Steven’s arousal pooled underneath you. He wasted no time grabbing your ass cheeks in a firm grip, guiding you as you started riding him at a moderate pace. You whacked his hands away as soon as you remembered what the two of you were trying to do. You were trying - and failing at - the dom and sub dynamic in the bedroom.

“Bad boy Steven!” You tapped his chest playfully.

He grabbed the bedding at his sides and held on tight, biting his lower lip as you continued working yourself on his length. You let out a sigh in pleasure, rising and falling over him at an even tempo. You felt his hips bucking upward, demanding more from you. You leaned over and grabbed his strong throat, your hand looking pathetically small against it.

“Stop moving,” you ordered with little conviction.

“S-sorry love, can’t help m’self, feels so good I–”

“Shh,” you slid your hand off his throat and covered his mouth in your palm.

He kept mumbling, even though you had no idea what he was saying to you. You started moving a little faster, seeing how desperate he was. Everything was so wet between your bodies, and with Steven, always such a leaky thing, you never knew who was to blame: you or him. You felt both of his hands on your hips again and his eyes rolled back in his head.

This time he didn’t let go, and he started pumping himself into you faster. You gasped, grabbing both of his forearms. He was slamming upward, cock brushing against your cervix with every pass.

“Steven you’re supposed to–” you fell back, hands grabbing his legs while he jackhammered himself into you harder from below, “-y-you’re supposed to–f-fuck it–oh god!”

Steven was holding onto your waist so hard you thought he might crush you, but you didn’t care; it felt so good. He moved one of his hands over your abdomen and started using the pad of his thumb to roll over your swollen clit. You started screaming nonsensically into the flat, hoping to god that your neighbors were out.

“That’s it love-this is what I need-oh yes-need to make you cry out darling–shit!”

Well you’d tried, but Steven was just too pushy, and you liked when he acted so desperate he couldn’t stop himself from just taking what he wanted. The two of you flat out sucked at being a dom and sub, but that was okay, maybe you’d try again another time.

“Look at that p-pretty-little-thing-god!” His voice was cracking with every sharp, raspy moan that escaped his lips. “Feels so good love, feels good squeezin’ me so hard I–oh god I–I–yes-yes-yes!”

Steven’s hips stopped suddenly, cock throbbing with every spurt of cum it spilled into you. Your fluttering cunt was accompanied by your gasping whines of pleasure as your climax washed over you as well. Steven pumped you so full it started spilling out the sides. As you both came down from your simultaneous release, you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his - still wide open - mouth.

“M’not good at the submissive thing love, so sorry, just…needed it y’know?” He huffed out a laugh.

“I know, we can try again another time,” you kissed his cheek and then slid off of him.

Steven was covered all over his lower abdomen and legs in your combined juices. He looked down at himself chuckling and then raising an eyebrow at you.

“Made quite a mess didn’t we?”

Steven Grant Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

#steven grant fiction #steven grant headcanon #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant smut #moon knight drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight

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lieutnt · 10 months

Note

Male reader cock warming an impatient/needy Steven Grant🧎🏾‍♂️🧎🏾‍♂️🧎🏾‍♂️

Your hands tighten on his hips in warning, causing Steven’s subtle movements to stall. He tries to burrow further into your neck, and you can feel his breath against your skin as he speaks. “I’m sorry, I can’t, please let me move.” He begs, thighs aching in desperation and cock throbbing with the need for release.

“That’s not what we agreed on Steven.” You sigh, hands coming up to cup his cheeks and pull him out from the crook of your neck, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are covered in a watery sheen, cheeks dusted pink, hair mussed into frustrated curls from where he’s ran his fingers through it.

His grip tightens in the fabric of your shirt, voice shaky. “I can’t anymore, love, I need to move.” He makes it hard to resist, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes but remaining still. You can feel his hole tensing around you, purposefully trying to get you to fuck him like he asked, but, you still had some work to do, and Steven was breaking his side of the deal.

“Just 20 more minutes, can you wait?” Reluctantly, Steven nods, going back to hiding his face in your neck. Twisting your head you kiss what you can reach, making sure to mumble a “Good boy.”

He shivers, trying to hide the deepening blush of his cheeks when you lightly chuckle. You reach back out to your keyboard, and Steven resigns himself to 20 more minutes.

#steven grant #steven grant x male reader #moon knight #marvel #top male reader #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writings

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starks-hero · 11 months

Text

Oh, Little Horned One of the Old Oak Tree

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Summary: Becoming the avatar of an ancient Celtic god came with some unforeseen side affects; side affects which you are yet to tell Steven about.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, slight body horror if you squint, Steven is a ridiculously supportive boyfriend in the face of fuckery and we love him for it

a/n: giving the reader a supportive god/avatar relationship because it's what they deserve

It's not that you hadn't tried to clean the blood, you'd done your best. But it stained the tips of your fingers and left the porcelain tiles of the bathroom a dark red.

You weren't entirely sure where it had all come from, but the damp, matted hair surrounding where the antlers had sprouted from your head served as a good indicator.

It shouldn't be happening, not yet. You had at least another fortnight till the next eclipse, (if your notes were anything to go by.) But you knew the moment your muscles began to ache and your bones began to creak that it was indeed happening, and it wasn't going to stop regardless of how upset it made you.

You'd tried to call Jake. Then Marc. But you didn't want to risk Steven answering the phone.

The bathroom was the closest refuge you could find and as it would seem it was far from the most ideal of places. You'd torn down the shower curtain in your haste to hide and all but shattered the delicate tiles beneath your feet.

The mirror had also fallen victim to your havoc, an almost artistically applaudable webbed crack spreading out from the centre of the glass where your elbow had made contact. A handful of rouge shards littered the floor and made quick work of slicing open your palm.

You glared at the offending piece of glass before picking it out of your hand and throwing it across the room with enough force that it was embedded in the opposite wall like a well-aimed dart.

You could still make out your reflection through the broken glass pane. Antlers sprouting from the crown of your head, winding off in all different directions. There was a pale glow to your eyes and ruins and ancient symbols wrapped around your arms and the expanse of your chest. And if your abundance of new features hadn't already qualified you for your own Magic: The Gathering card, you'd also doubled in height.

This would be a fucking delight to explain.

You took a moment to thank the gods for Stevens's late shift at the museum before steadying yourself with a deep breath.

You'd felt every bit of it; the stretching, twisting and growing of entirely new bones. And if the persistent pain in your chest and spine was anything to go by you figured it was far from over.

You could hear the deep, resonant voice of your deity, distant and far off, like rushing water over rock. His words were gruff and shaped by his accent as he apologized profusely; and as ego-boosting as it was having an eldritch being admit defeat and practically beg for your forgiveness, you found yourself in too much pain to truly enjoy the moment.

“Cernunnos,” you cursed the god's name.

Your legs were still crammed uncomfortably against your chest and the bathroom door whilst your antlers continued to do a glorious job of scrapping the paint job off the ceiling.

Another wave of pain hit, burning through your veins and seizing hold of your lungs. You coughed and spluttered, each attempt at a breath snagging in your throat like leaves catching on dead branches. The horrid sensation of shifting bones hit your chest and you doubled over with a hiss.

“Please make it stop.”

“I'm sorry, fia beag,” (little deer) the god said, his reflection appearing in the mirror shards. His antlers filled out the frame, putting your own to shame and his eyes, (despite, like the rest of his body, being those of a stag, which as far as species go aren't the most emotionally expressive–) were almost apologetic. “I've tried my best, I asked Manannan to reverse the tides to change the lunar phase and buy us time but it's too late.”

It was heartwarming really; how Cernnunos cared so much, enough to ask a fellow god to inconvenience the entire ocean all in the name of saving your love life. You were glad to have him, even if he was the reason you were going through pain worse than fucking childbirth.

“I'm sorry.” The god's ears flattened against his head and you wondered if you'd said the last part aloud.

“What's the point of all this again?” You'd shifted before but it was never irregular and never this bad.

“A thousand years ago my worshipers adored when my avatar arrived at Imbolc in this form!” Cernnunos sounded excited.

“So it was to show off?”

“To make the people feel seen and protected,” he countered.

“And it's something I have to go through because–?”

The god was quiet for a moment. “Old habits die hard?”

Cernnunos had off-handedly mentioned (downright bragged) about the pact he'd made with the moon sometime before the construction of Newgrange. That his avatar would be gifted with a godly form the night of each lunar eclipse. You weren't well versed in ancient deals between eldritch beings but apparently, it's not the kind of agreement you can back out of a millennia down the line.

And apparently, another moon-related god had initiated an eclipse two weeks ahead of schedule. (your money was on Khonshu over Artemis.)

“It will be alright, little one,” Cernnunos promised. It was soothing having him near, but he tended to have that effect. With him, you were like a fawn, comforted by the knowledge that it was protected by its elder. “Besides, it's not as though this night could get much worse for us.”

Almost comedically, the struggle of key in lock sounded and then the front door opened.

You and the god stared at each other, quite literally, like deers in headlights.

“Love? I'm home–”

Steven's voice sent your flight, fight, freeze response to full throttle and you beckoned for Cernnunos to leave as quietly and frantically as you could. The god seemed reluctant, but another chorus of a British accent from the other side of the door and he relented.

The glass rippled like water on a lake and then he was gone.

You could hear Steven moving around the flat, carrying out his usual routine of removing his name tag, unbuttoning his over shirt and tossing his bag on the couch.

You held your breath when the floorboards of the bedroom creaked and silently prayed he'd just call it a night in favour of finding you hiding in the bathroom looking like something straight from Pans Labyrinth. When he called out for you again you sent your head back against the wall with enough force to crack the tiles.

“Love, you alright?” There was three gentle raps on the door. “Darling?”

“I'm fine,” the words were unsteady. And had your voice gotten deeper?

There was a beat of silence outside the door then, “You don't sound fine.”

“I'm just not feeling great,” you managed. Just go, Steven. Please just go.

“Oh, darling, are you sick? Here let me–” The terrifying sight of the door handle turning caused your heart to almost hammer out of your chest. You rushed to press your foot against it and watched in horror as the timber split right down the middle. The door was barely clinging to the hinges.

You could hear Steven's shock on the other side of the door, a string of curses followed suit. “Y/N–”

“Just leave it, Steven!” you bit out. You hadn't meant for the words to sound so animalistic, so angry. But the only thing currently preventing your life from crumbling was a splintering door and your refusal to move your foot. You were allowed to be rash, you thought.

“Alright, you're scaring me now–”

The universe really wasn't letting up with its ironies today.

The wooden door panels creaked and splintered as Steven tried to open it from the outside. You kept your foot firmly pressed to the middle, but as the hinges began to groan you felt the sturdiness give way. It felt like you had your foot against a wet piece of tissue paper; you were going to tear right through it.

With one more shove from Steven's side, you were forced to surrender.

The door swung open with truly theatrical measure and Steven stumbled in behind it. Instinctually, you pushed yourself against the back wall, forgetting your new height and putting your head through the ceiling as you did.

Chaos is too kind of a word for what followed.

The sound that left Steven fell somewhere between a startled shout and a scream of genuine terror. You reached out and Steven fired back, his feet tying themselves in knots and sending him to the floor.

You struggled to pull your head out of the crater you'd left in the roof. A fine layer of debris and dust covered you and somewhat important-looking wires were strung across your antlers like poorly hung Christmas lights.

Almost on cue, the bathroom light flickered twice and came away from the ceiling, ending up in several pieces on the floor.

The dark apparently did nothing in making you look less menacing as Steven continued to voice his fears. And loudly at that. He hadn't moved, still frozen to the spot just outside the door.

“Steven, please–” you crawled forward at a snail's pace, each movement purposely slow.

He watched you with frantic eyes, his heart hammering like a rabbit against his chest. You'd never seen him so scared.

As he clambered to his feet, you dared to inch closer, but it was the opinion of the shattered tiles beneath your feet that you weren't moving nearly fast enough. You slipped on the porcelain shards and were all but thrown in Steven's direction.

Your rack broke your fall by all but embedding the tips of each spike in the wall surrounding the door frame. You'd put your head through so much wood and plaster in the past few minutes you were beginning to sympathize with mounted deer heads.

Steven was staring now, expression boarding on mild fear and absolute confusion. Then, his eyes flicked to the broken mirror behind you, and then his reflection in the window to his right.

Marc and Jake had taken their sweet time.

Steven looked between you, the mirror and the window and then back at you. Then it visibly clicked.

“Oh, oh my gods, Y/N you, you're-” he swallowed. “-what's happening?”

“It's my time of the month.” The joke went down like a led balloon. Steven swayed on his feet.

“Steven, are you alright?”

“Yeah, sort of. No, not really.”

You craned your neck as far as your current predicament would allow for. “Are you going to pass out?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay,” you said the word beneath your breath. He hadn't run which, all things considered, meant this was going fairly well. Even from the awkward angle you were stuck in you could feel his eyes on you, shifting from one monstrous feature to the next, lingering on the markings and the fucking antlers and the–

“Love, you have blood– you're bleeding.” And just like that, a flip switched in Steven's mind at the sight of you wounded. This man was a true enigma and a wonderful one at that. “Here–”

He approached and then almost immediately hesitated, bouncing back on his heel the moment you shifted.

You weren't exactly a threatening sight, shoulders wedged in the door frame, covered in dust and splintered wood and head practically pinned to the wall. You looked like a drunk stag that had lost a fight to a tree.

Steven shook himself and stepped close enough that your laboured breaths ruffled his curls. He was doing an admirable job of hiding the fact that he was shaking.

“Alright, bloody hell um–” He regarded the situation and then nodded. “I'll push, you pull.”

Steven braced his hands against your shoulders and you grabbed hold of the door frame. It's not that you needed the extra help; out of all the things you'd conquered whilst serving as an avatar freeing yourself from a plaster wall ranked fairly low on that list.

But Steven was touching you in this form, his palms pressed to your broadened shoulders and you weren't about to jinx it.

The wall cracked and fissured as you freed yourself, several deep punctures left where your antlers had been. You twisted and manoeuvred your way out of the bathroom until you could straighten up to your full height.

Thank god Steven lived on the top floor. Higher ceilings.

“Okay, woah–” Steven took several steps back as you stood. You towered over him, antlers bleeding into darkened shadows against the ceiling. Okay, now 'intimidating' might be a more fitting word.

You lowered yourself to your knees in an attempt to seem less frightening. Now that you were eye to eye, Steven could see the worry in your expression as you regarded him softly.

“It's alright. I'm adjusting,” he said, voice still trembling. “Just need a quick adjustment period...”

You gave him time and let him lead.

And that's how you ended up in the kitchen, legs crossed as you sat on the floor whilst Steven sat on the counter in front of you. He held a wet flannel in his hand, droplets of water creeping down his arm.

A dry cloth sat folded on the counter beside him, as well as a box of plasters with 'good job!' written across each one.

It was as if his rationality was being overridden by his need to care for you as well as his overall steveness.

Steven dabbed the crown of your head gently, his hands shaking as he did. There was still a dull ache where the antlers had sprouted. Steven rung out the flannel over the sink and the sight of the blood running through his fingers and over his knuckles made you feel ill. His hands were always so soft, they weren't meant to be stained with blood.

You blinked as a small trail of blood seeped from your head and trailed down between your brows. Steven diligently stopped the flow with the cloth and cleaned you up. Your nose twitched at the dampness of the cloth and Steven smiled.

The first smile you'd seen all night.

His actions slowed, hand stilling as he watched you. Beneath the pale glow of your eyes there was something so familiar. He smiled again.

“Hiya love,” the words were so soft they made you feel warm.

“Hi.”

You raised your arms, the markings and symbols on your skin catching in the dim light. Your hands circled Steven's wrists gently. He pulled back and for a terrifying moment you thought he'd gone completely; deciding that he'd had enough, that you were too much like this and he was drawing the boundary line here.

Instead, he dropped the blood-stained flannel in the sink basin and held his hand back against yours, palms pressed together. It was an adorable comparison. The tips of his fingers barely brushed the top of your palm, in fact, you were certain you could close your hand over the entirety of his own. There was a moment shared in comfortable silence then Steven asked, “Y/N, what is going on?”

The question was gentle and filled with wonder. There was still a trace of a smile on his lips. It made you feel like you could finally tell him.

“Avatar stuff. I suppose my god is a little more... flamboyant than yours.”

Steven laughed and the sound comes as a relief. “Khonshu didn't want to give me the time of day, let alone a– a bloody godly alter ego.”

A beat of silence.

“Did it hurt?”

It was heartwarming that that was his next question.

“A little,” you answered somewhat honestly. “But I'm alright now.”

He finished cleaning you up in a peaceful silence. He took the time to wash the blood from your hair as best he could and plaster your injured hand, (for the emotional boost more than anything.) It took several plasters to cover the expanse of the wound, each overlapping so the supportive catchphrase now read 'good good job good.'

He sat in front of you now, having spent the last few minutes tracing the spirals and patterns on your arm. His earlier fear had completely given way to wonder; it wasn't easy to forget that the man was a mythology nerd through and through.

A boyish laugh crept past his lips. “I wonder how Marc and Jake will react.” He looked up at you to gouge a reaction and his smile fell slightly. “Oh.”

“Steven–” you scratched the back of your neck. This was going to be a bitch to explain. “-Jake only knows because... well–” you made a vague motion with your hands that the four of you had come to recognize meant 'Jake.'

Steven nodded in understanding.

“And Marc just sort of found out by accident.”

Steven nodded again and you could visibly see the process going on behind his eyes.

“And um– why didn't any of you tell me?” His voice adopted a higher pitch at the end of the question, likely in an attempt to take the edge off.

You took a sudden interest in the floorboards. “I didn't want to– you know.”

It was quiet for a moment. Then Steven gasped.

“Oh, oh love, you didn't think... you didn't think I'd be scared did you?”

A quick exhale of amusement from you. “You seemed fairly scared.”

“I- well yeah, yeah.” He conceded. “But not of you. Never of you.” His hands found yours again, the staggering difference in size almost humorous. “I just wish you could have felt like you could have told me, that's all.”

A warmth settled in the centre of your chest and you felt the corner of your eyes dampen. Any attempt of yours to not cry was immediately foiled as he inched closer and put his arms around your neck. His knees buckled against your crossed legs and he sank against your chest.

“For what it's worth,” you smiled against the crown of his head. “I think your reaction probably ranks highest out of the three.”

“Yeah?” He asked lightly. His curls tickled the end of your nose.

“Yeah. Jake used some pretty colourful language, most of it was in Spanish. And Marc pulled a gun on me–”

“He pulled a gun on you–?!” With the exclamation, Steven shot back to look at you.

“Like I said, you take first place.”

“Well, the bar wasn't set awfully bloody high was it?” He glared at his reflection in the kettle and you smirked, closing your arms around him and caging him to your chest. There was something so soothing, so primally comforting about being able to hold him, hold all of him, like this.

You nuzzled against his chocolate curls and to anyone on the outside looking in the action would have looked downright primal. Animalistic. But it couldn't have felt more intimate.

“I could get used to this, I think.” Steven's words were barely above a breath. “You're just a big teddy bear, really. More of you to love.”

His hands slowly and deliberately retraced your shoulder, then your neck, down the expanse of your chest... “What do the patterns mean?”

“Some of the symbols stand for attributes or characteristics; strength, courage, loyalty,” you regarded your arm, from your bicep down to your wrist. “Some of them are his symbols, some he added when I agreed to be his avatar and others, I've never really taken the time to find out–”

Steven hummed, not in a dismissive sense, rather in a way that showed he'd listened to each word like the gospel.

“I've got a book on ruins and ancient symbols, only bought the thing for the hieroglyphics really but maybe we could have a look? Do some homework?” A playful nudge accompanied the last question and you caved. As if you stood much of a chance to begin with.

That's how you ended up laying on the bed, (well, mostly on the bed. Your back was against the headboard and your legs still hung over the edge. Steven straddled your middle, an open book and notepad to his right, a highlighter between his teeth and a marker in his hand. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and his brows furrowed as he traced his thumb over a symbol just beneath your collarbone.

You shivered despite yourself.

He'd mapped everything out, using the marker to gently draw on your skin, making connections and jotting down notes. It was like watching a scholar at work and you were honoured to be his study.

“Sorry about the bathroom,” you said rather out of the blue.

Steven glanced up at you, rebellious curls falling against his brow. His confusion melted into gentle amusement. “Don't worry about it, love. Needed redoing anyways, I reckon.”

Then, as if it were the most mundane thing in the world, he went back to his translations.

In a form that most could only phantom in the darkest corners of their imagination and with a god willing to bend the seas and skies at your will, Steven Grant somehow remained among both the most curious and most cherished things you had.

Key ➳

Cernnunos - Celtic god of wild things, fertility and animals

Manannan - (Manannan Mac Lir) Celtic god of the sea

Imbolc - the Celtic festival that marks the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It celebrates the return of life and light as it is the time when the ewes come into milk, when the first flowers appear and when the day noticeably lengthens.

Newgrange - famous 5,200 year old passage tomb in Co Meath, Ireland

‘fia beag’ - gaeilge for ‘little deer’

thank you for reading!

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#mary on a cross “you're beauty never ever scared me” vibes >>>#steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight imagine #steven grant imagine #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight #☘️#one day I'll stop making all my stories have irish themes #but not today

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