#steven grant x reader insert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

isawthisangel · 1 year

Text

domestic/relationship situations with steven/marc headcanons part two

find part one here

masterlist

word count: 900w

a/n: i will happily write a full length fic for any of these if you guys send me one of the prompts, or any different ones<3

Steven loves to cook and is usually home by the late afternoon, but sometimes when he has more work to do when he gets home and you have to work late, you end up ordering takeout. You guys have a hat with all the different takeouts written on pieces of paper inside for when you can’t decide, which is often.

On weekends you love nothing more than holing up in the flat to binge whole seasons of tv shows. Steven is all over this, making the sofa as cosy as possibly, collecting blankets and snacks and content to sit for hours with your feet in his lap or your head on his shoulder, his arm around you. Marc usually lasts about two episodes before complaining that he’s bored.

You suggest reorganising the bookshelves. This takes weeks. Steven is so meticulous about where his books go, even though it looks like a mess to anyone else, he can find the book he’s looking for in seconds when he needs to. You have your bookshelf, but your books have started spilling over, which is fine as long as they’re in the right section.

Honestly I could write an essay about this. Steven sat cross legged on the floor surrounded by books, stacking them into piles and trying to work out how best to organise them, brow furrowed. You giving up trying to help after a while, realising he has his own, very complicated system. Rearranging the plants and fairy lights around everything when it’s finally done. Smiling whenever he looks at it for the next few days.

Both of the boys like to rant when they’re worked up about something, but the topics on which they tend to get so upset about vary drastically. If Steven is upset about a new display at the museum, or Donna getting his name wrong yet again, Marc will be angry about something going wrong on a mission, stomping and swearing around the flat injured and covered in blood.

Similarly, you have to learn that they can’t be calmed down in the same way. Steven can usually be placated pretty easily by a cup of tea or a shoulder massage, whereas with Marc you have to let him burn out by himself. When he finally collapses into a chair and goes silent, then you can move in and start patching him up best you can, dropping kisses onto his skin at regular intervals until he’s fully relaxed.

Baths. Steven doesn’t usually have a bath, and if he does you’re in there with him. Marc, on the other hand, would live in the bath if you let him. He’ll soak until the water’s cold and all the bubbles are gone, half asleep with a contented half smile on his face. He’d never admit it, but he loves coming home to a bubble bath.

Sometimes when you wake up you find Marc asleep on the sofa, not wanting to have woken you up when he got in from a mission the night before. Despite your protests he continues to do this if he knows you have to be up early the next morning, even though you’d rather be tired and know that he’s come home safe that night.

Similarly to the laundry, you can tell who’s been shopping while you’ve been at work by the contents of the cupboards and fridge and how they’ve been organised. Steven will have a meal plan on the wall and all of the (mostly fresh) ingredients neatly stowed away. Marc will have filled the freezer up, and maybe bought some fruit and veg, if you’re lucky.

Steven one hundred percent gets distracted and dances with you in the kitchen when you cook together. Enough said.

Sometimes you’ll catch Steven before he rushes out the door, ever late, for work to fix his tie or his hair. This isn’t necessarily because it looks bad, you’re just after one more kiss before he leaves. If he’s caught on, he doesn’t say. If you’re fixing Marc’s hair or clothes before he rushes out the door it’s most likely because he’d lost track of time with you in bed that morning. You’ve been late countless times for similar reasons.

‘Laughter is infectious,’ sure, but Steven’s laugh is actually infectious. If he’s laughing, you’re laughing, it doesn’t matter what he’s laughing at or where you are. Similarly, Marc laughs so little that when he does you find yourself smiling regardless, relishing in the sound, trying to memorise it.

Steven is annoyingly good at presents, and you struggle to match the thoughtfulness of his gifts. Marc has a strict no present policy, which you happily disregard during every holiday, knowing that he’ll complain and then smile secretly afterwards, when he thinks you can’t see.

You try to eat breakfast and brush your teeth with whoever it is you wake up to every morning, schedules allowing. It puts you in a good mood in the mornings, and prepares you for the rest of the day. If you get frustrated at work you think about breakfast, or how you get to go home to such a loving environment that night. It usually makes you feel better.

tag list💌 @propertyofkingvalkyriealkyrie @later-gators12

comment to be added ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#moonknight #moonknight fanfic #moonknight fanfiction #moon knight x reader #moonknight imagine #steven grant #steven grant fanfic #steven grant x reader insert #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector #marc spector fanfic #fluff #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff #moonknight fluff #headcanons

399 notes · View notes

corinthianism · 6 months

Text

corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

4K notes · View notes

anonymityisfunwriter · 2 months

Text

"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a

500 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 2 months

Text

While we’re on the subject on inclusivity:

Inclusivity in your mood boards is just as important as inclusivity in the fic itself. Please try to include poc and curvy images in your mood boards as well! Please!

Your moodboard is the introduction to your story and sets the mood and the vibe. When you only have skinny white girls in your moodboards, you’re communicating a message that’s all who you thought of while writing and that’s the only type who is attractive and desirable to the characters. Poc deserve to feel seen too and feel like they were thought of while writing. Especially so when you’re writing for characters of color!

You don’t even have to use *only* poc or curvy pictures for your mood boards. Including different skin tones to show that you made the effort is much appreciated. You could also use shadow images or fully blacked out silhouettes to hide the skin tone altogether. There are plenty of resources and images out there that you should be able to find more than just skinny white girls. I know is it takes a little extra digging but it’s very much worth it to show inclusivity!

I know Pinterest is the bane of image finding, but it can be a good resource to find poc images. Just search (whatever aesthetic you’re looking for) + dark skin or person of color or something similar and you’ll find plenty of images. And the more you save the more images will show up in your feed. I constantly collect images to have references later when I need them.

Unsplash is another good resource to find poc models and images. And there’s also models of color pages right here on tumblr! There are resources out there it just takes a little effort to find the right images!

And as an ending note: using only skinny white girls in your mood board and then putting a disclaimer like “images do not represent reader they’re just fitting the aesthetic” isn’t the work around you think it is. I understand it’s not done in purpose and you most likely don’t realize it, but saying that says poc don’t fit your aesthetic and it’s still alienating and hurtful. Just something to keep in mind.

437 notes · View notes

horangislittletiger99 · 1 month

Text

Describing my taste in men in one image

292 notes · View notes

taissabelle · 2 years

Text

Doctor: How many sexual partners have you had?

Me, who reads smut fun fictions about different characters on daily basis…

4K notes · View notes

tom-whore-dleston · 4 months

Note

for the event how about snooze with steven grant <3333 they just fit so perfectly together !!

Snooze

Pairing: Steven Grant x f. reader

Word Count: 1.5k

This fic contains: fluff, neighbors to lovers, insomnia, meet cute scenario, confessions, kissing, corny play on lyrics of Snooze

Summary: You are the main constant that helps combat Steven’s insomnia. This night, things are a little bit different.

Notes: omg Sil you are so right about how Snooze is Steven-coded!! Thank you bb for the request and I hope you enjoy 🥰🫶🏽 Thank you to @potatothots for beta reading and sharing your insight 🩷

Spotify Wrapped 2023 challenge | send a request here

Steven glared at the blue squares of his Rubik's Cube. It had been the third time he solved the three dimensional puzzle since the moon illuminated the night sky. The toy tumbled into his lap as Steven’s groggy eyes flickered towards the shimmering sphere that tauntingly gazed back at him.

The classical record that was meant to aid his sleep came to an end. Steven lost track of how many times he played that record. When his insomnia began many moons ago, the record did wonders for his sleep. Now, it basically is a broken record because of how often he played it at night.

Yet, there was one constant that always helped him fall asleep. And that was you.

You were new to the apartment complex and moved in right next to Steven. The way you both met was one for the books. Your flat mate was running late for work due to lack of sleep from the night before. He rushed out the door, struggling into his coat. Without realizing, his shoelaces dragged carelessly across the floor. Steven, as clumsy as he was, crashed into you carrying a box of clothes, and you both fell to the floor.

The British man’s eyes widened. “Oh my- I am terribly sorry! Are you alright?” His eyes widened even more after one glance upon your beauty.

You sat up chuckling, unaware of his gawking. “No need for apologies. I am perfectly fine.” Then, you noticed the items scattered on the floor. “Although, I’m not too sure about the pile of clothes.” The man mirrored your movements as you crawled towards an article of clothing.

“Allow me to help you ma’am,” Steven began tossing shirts and sweaters into the box. As you reached for your favorite scarf, a strong hand slightly brushed against yours. You stared into each other's eyes, smiling softly. You could have sworn you saw a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Oh heavens, I am late for work!” He checked the time on his watch and began to panic. “I missed my bus, too!”

“Perhaps I can take you to work?” You helped him to his feet, and your cheeks grew hot as he began to tower over you.

“Oh no, I-“

“It’s okay. I want to.” You paused. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Steven unclenched his jaw and let out a quick laugh. “Thank you ma’am! I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.”

“It’s my pleasure…” your voice dropped upon realizing you didn’t know the name of the British man before you.

“Steven. Steven Grant.”

It was a typical late Saturday night when you arrived at your apartment complex. Your watch peeked through your cuffed long sleeve, catching a glimpse of the time.

3:00. That was a record time for the latest you came home from a shift at the local bar. Your body, especially your legs, yearned to crash into the coziness of your bed and sleep until the sun was at its peak in the sky. As you approached the door to your apartment, you stopped in your tracks after meeting your neighbor’s hazy eyes.

“Steven?”

The gentleman in question half smiled. “Hello, darling.”

“Rough night?” You interrogated knowingly. Steven nodded with closed eyes.

You fumbled your key into the lock for a moment before opening the door and stepping to the side. “C’mon in. I’ll make us some tea.”

Steven walked into your apartment and headed towards your couch, as he had done many nights before. He wrapped himself in the blanket you knitted yourself as you fixed a pot of tea. The blanket smelled like you, which always brought him a sense of comfort. A kind of comfort he couldn’t find in his own home. In fact, Steven couldn’t remember the last time he felt any sense of security before meeting you.

“You really fancy that blanket, huh?” You giggled, admiring how adorable he looked being swaddled in your own creation. The day you moved in, you decided to knit a blanket to combat your boredom. Once it was finished, you didn’t dare touch it as you were too afraid it would get ruined. The first night you welcomed Steven into your apartment, he was immediately fascinated with the blanket that he cozied onto your couch bundled in the blanket before falling into the best sleep he had in a while.

“I do, indeed. It helped me sleep when I had no other way of falling asleep.” Steven peered down at the wooly fabric, tracing over the patterns as if his next words were hidden between the stitches.

“Well, I’m happy to have helped you in a subliminal way.” The rest of your surroundings blurred as Steven became the focus of your gaze. Your heart skipped a beat as the dim light in your living room accented his structured face and wavy dark locks. Even with the blanket draped over his frame, his plain white t-shirt did little to hide his muscular arms and broad shoulders.

The abrupt screech of the kettle caused you to jolt and you quickly turned off the stove to avoid the sound reaching your other sleeping neighbors. After steeping chamomile bags in two separate cups, you joined Steven on the couch, leaving a respectful distance between the two of you. You handed him a mug and he gingerly peeled it from your grip. Your teeth gritted together as his soft fingers brushed against yours. Steven frowned, noticing your shift in demeanor.

“You cold, darling?” He shimmied out of the blanket, letting it fall to his waist.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal-” Suddenly, Steven scooted next to you before throwing the blanket over both of your laps with one hand. It was the smoothest thing you had ever witnessed, you forgot how to breathe in that moment.

“There we are. It wouldn’t be right of me to hog all of your blanket.” You couldn't help but laugh. Without further thought, you and Steven simultaneously sipped your cups of tea, the hot beverage instantly calming your mind and muscles. Steven hummed happily as the tea warmed his body. Yet, he was still wide awake.

The grandfather clock that stood strong in your living room ticked loudly to fill the silence of the room. It glared dauntingly into your and Steven’s souls as you drank your tea while avoiding each other’s gazes. The pendulum swung from side to side as if waiting for one of you to make a move. As Steven drank the last drop of tea, he was left with no other choice but to break the silence.

“You know something, love?” You suddenly became more interested in Steven as you set the mug on your coffee table. “Ever since I met you, things have changed.”

“I hope it’s a good kind of change.”

Steven peered down, smiling softly. “Yeah, it was. For starters, you have really helped me combat this insomnia. I couldn’t tell you about the last time I had a good night’s sleep.” Your lips curled into a dopey grin, and your skin grew hot. Yet neither the tea nor the blanket contributed to the warm feeling inside you.

“Then, there is your kindness. No one has been as nice as you have been to me so it feels reassuring to know there’s still good people out there. You are also extremely bold. To move all the way from across the pond is…It’s brave. You’ve done all the things I’m scared to do.” He rambled on and on but one thing reeled in your attention. “To tell you the truth, I’m quite smitten with you, love.”

“Steven…” You were at a loss for words. Your heart skipped a beat after learning he felt the same way about you.

“Forgive me if I am too forward, but-”

“No, not at all. In fact, I feel the same way towards you.” Your hands met in the middle of the blanket, bringing you back to the moment your hands first touched outside your doors. This time, the spark between you two was much stronger.

“Can I kiss you, love?”

“I thought you would never ask.”

Steven laughed before cupping your face with his large hands and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet yet full of passion. It reminded you of a flame so bright you couldn’t help but reach out and touch it because you knew it wouldn’t hurt or scar you. Your lips molded together like a sculptor forming the greatest piece that’ll be admired for centuries to come. Time froze as your lips danced in unison and space ceased to exist around you and between you.

Losing sleep was the last thing on Steven’s mind. For how could he lose when he was with you? Sleep will eventually find its way back to him. He couldn’t snooze and miss the moment of you and him in each other’s embrace.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Steven Grant Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

#SPOTIFY WRAPPED 2023 🎵#STEVEN GRANT #MOON KNIGHT #MR KNIGHT #OSCAR ISAAC #STEVEN GRANT X READER #STEVEN GRANT X YOU #STEVEN GRANT FANFICTION #STEVEN GRANT FIC #STEVEN GRANT IMAGINE #STEVEN GRANT FLUFF #fluff #reader insert #no y/n #psychedelic-ink #bb sil 💕#request fulfilled ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ

155 notes · View notes

marvelsswansong · 2 years

Text

clumsy

summary: you're extremely clumsy. Steven worries. Marc finds it amusing. Jake gets protective. But they all love you for it nonetheless.

tags: pure fluff, oneshot, boyf!Steven & Marc & Jake, gn!reader (no pronouns/descriptions in place), cute slice of life moments, some comedic humor with Khonshu, bc I am a student in London ofc I had to add in English lingo/London tingz, please do not take as accurate portrayal of DID by any means

☆ word count: 3.5K+ ☆

Steven worries for you. Endlessly.

He knows you’re a capable adult. You’re wicked smart, hard to trick, quick to respond with a sassy comment. But you’re extremely clumsy. He still remembers how the way the two of you first met was because you tripped and nearly fell onto an exhibit piece. Having just finished his shift, Steven was exhausted but his reflexes kicked in as his left arm quickly wrapped around your waist, stopping you from hitting the floor.

Your eyes remained closed, bracing for the harsh impact of the floor, but instead all you felt was… someone’s warm arm wrapped around your waistline.

“A-are you alright?” a soft British voice asked you, your eyes slowly opening to be met with a gorgeous curly haired man with a name tag pinned onto his shirt. Steven, it read.

“I- yeah, thank you. I didn’t mean to fall but I was distracted.” you sheepishly added, looking away from the handsome man’s gaze. You must’ve looked like such a fool, you berated yourself. Unbeknownst to you, he was mesmerized by the way the fading sunlight was illuminating your face, your smile hesitant but pure and your voice even sweeter to hear.

“Yes, the exhibits are truly fascinating-” he started, only to be cut off.

“I was actually looking at the guide dog.” you interrupted, pointing to the golden retriever across the room. “But these ancient exhibits are interesting too! I just wish I had a tour guide or something because reading all this printed information on four hours of sleep is really difficult.” you quickly added, making Steven chuckle.

“I-I could show you around, if you’d like.”

Steven had no idea where the sudden courage came from, but he didn’t want to clamber onto the tube and go back to his empty flat quite yet. He wanted to stay here, with you, listen to you ramble about the most innocuous things. He nervously fiddled with the edge of his jacket, thinking he had perhaps crossed the line, but all you did was smile even wider.

“Really? Are you sure? I mean there’s only half an hour before closing so-”

“It’s no problem, really.”

“Thank you, Steven.”

“No problem….” he trailed off, waiting for you to fill your name in.

“(Y/n).”

“(Y/n). Nice to meet you. So if you look closely upon this carving, you’ll see that it’s a depiction of Anubis. Anubis is the protector of the dead in Egyptian mythology…”

That had been six months ago and now you had moved into his flat, your hoodies carelessly folded over the couch and your mismatched socks stuffed precariously into his drawers. He wouldn’t have it any other way though - being able to come home to you each night and to have your face be the first thing he sees every day (more or less given that both of you had hectic schedules) made even the worst days much brighter for him. It also helped that living together meant he could keep an eye on you more: it wasn’t uncommon for you to have shown up to dates, prior to moving in, with a sprained wrist, a small bruise on your arm, a twisted ankle… All from (badly) doing regular things.

You were just so clumsy and out of them all, Steven worried the most. He carried plasters with him everywhere, in addition to filling one of his drawers to the brim with first aid supplies (which had the additional benefit of being of use to Marc or Jake after a night out, he supposed). He would be the first to drop all his books and come rushing by your side if he heard something drop or shatter, his first priority never being about the damaged item but your wellbeing. He didn’t care that you’d shattered three mugs since moving in or that you’d nearly given yourself a concussion from tripping over a package you were too lazy to pick up. Your clumsiness never annoyed him, though it just made him worry endlessly and be on high alert whenever you decided to do something even remotely dangerous.

“Ah, shit.”

You were sucking on the edge of your slightly burnt thumb for less than two seconds when Steven came rushing into the room, the sound of metal hitting the floor followed by your cursing forcing him to sprint out of bed and come to your aid. His hands carefully cradled your left hand, examining it in the dim yellow light of the kitchen, whilst you rolled your eyes playfully in protest.

“Stevennnnn, the cookies!” you attempted to pull away from him but his grip was iron tight.

“You’re far more important than the sweets, love. Hold on.”

Turning off the oven, he pulled out a pack of plasters from the top shelf, ordering for you to run your thumb under cold water in the mean time. Afterwards, he carefully dried off your finger (being ever so careful to ask you to tell him if it was hurting as he applied pressure) and bandaged it nicely with a soft kiss to your hand. The action made your heart flutter.

“Thanks, Steven.” you kissed him gently, an action which still made him blush.

“No problem, darling.”

“... Are the cookies okay though?” you pouted, pulling away from his embrace to check inside the oven. Steven’s hands quickly landed on your shoulders, pulling you backwards in an instant.

“Hold on, love. Let me get the cookies out, alright? Don’t want you to burn yourself again.” he lightly teased, putting on oven gloves. You sighed - admittedly, that was probably the best thing to do anyways. Steven was the one to carefully take the cookies off of the baking sheet with a spatula as you arranged them neatly into stacks into the plastic container, carefully balancing one of the cookies on top of your palm so you could feed it to Steven. He smiled, gently biting into the dessert, a pleasant hum leaving his lips.

“Any good? It’s a new recipe.”

“It’s marvelous, love. Very sweet. Only second to you.”

“Well it was a team effort, I’d say. I bake and… you make sure I don’t burn the flat down. Or burn myself.” you added, taking a bite of the cookie as well. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of having to treat minor injuries for me so often?”

Steven shook his head sideways, kissing you softly again - his lips still had the remnants of coconut and chocolate, with a hint of raspberry.

“Never.”

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

Marc, on the other hand, finds your clumsiness endlessly amusing.

He wouldn’t hesitate to pull you away from a burning pot or to help you stand up if you fell, of course. But unlike Steven who worried endlessly, waiting anxiously by your side as you cooked or cleaned, he found your daring efforts amusing and fun. Especially when he’d be able to tease you afterwards, see the adorable way in which your face would crinkle up in embarrassment, thereby giving him an excuse to kiss away the sour expression from your face.

Juggling trying to retain whatever was ‘normal’ for Steven with a mercenary’s life and an Egyptian god constantly bothering him in the background, there was something so comforting and normal about watching you. His favorite sight in the world was whenever you’d stay up late waiting for him to get home then fall asleep on the sofa, your face smushed into the cushions, your chest rising in soft breaths as you slept. Being able to carry you back to bed, after arranging the pillows and blankets to be as comfortable as they could, before falling into the sheets with you was how he wished every day could be.

His heart burned for you. And amongst the millions of things he loved about you, above all, it was your heart - your never ending desire to help others, your generosity, your need to always give back to others. He even saw one time that you’d scheduled various anniversaries into your phone, each day color coded and neatly organized - he pretended to have not seen the first month anniversary notification and acted surprised a week later when you pulled out a pair of tickets to a new musical. His right arm never left your waist as you clung to him afterwards, the uneven cobblestoned streets of London making walking (especially as you were drunk) ever more difficult.

“Oh!” you suddenly stopped walking, causing Marc to almost tip over to the side at the suddenness and force with which you stopped walking. Cautious, he quickly surveyed the surroundings, expecting you to have seen something to make you nervous. “Remind me to take out the cake I have in the fridge before Marc gets home.”

His heart was overflowing with warmth as he chuckled quietly, brushing away your hair from your face so he could better see it under the moonlight.

“Baby, I am Marc.”

You simply hummed in response, his reply not seemingly registering in your brain for a few moments before your eyes widened in shock.

“You are! No, now I ruined the surprise.” you dramatically flailed your arms, almost falling over as you took a misstep. Marc’s reflexes were fast, quickly pulling you into his chest as a black cab rushed by.

“Careful, angel. Almost got run over by London traffic.”

Gently walking you towards the other side of the street, Marc was vigilant to keep you away from the side facing the open traffic all the way until the two of you reached the flat. Opening the door took several tries as you insisted on being useful and opening it yourself, but you kept on dropping the key or using the wrong key for the door.

“Just help the little human already.” Khonshu grumbled from the background, his arms crossed and his tone unamused. But Marc didn’t care. There was something so cute about seeing you get frustrated, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you tried over and over again to open the door. When Marc eventually stepped in and opened it in one try, you threw your arms around him, kissing his face and calling him your hero, causing him to accidentally knock against the kitchen counter with a mug falling and shattering on the floor as a result.

“My clumsy baby. What will I ever do with you…” he commented against your lips, the pads of his thumbs drawing circles on your face.

“Perhaps you could begin by cleaning up the filth on the floor.”

Marc was about to chastise the god when your head suddenly whipped around to the tall creature.

“Shut it, birdie! It was a mistake.”

“... You can see me?” the god’s voice changed from annoyance to one of surprise, clearly having underestimated your abilities to perceive beyond the mortal world.

“Yes! And you need to stop being so mean to Steven, he’s a good boy.”

The god was baffled into silence as Marc let out a wild laugh at your antics, hugging you closer to his chest.

God, he loved you.

The sound of the door finally unlocking snapped him out of his memories, his thoughts running wild when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, nervously pulling at the ends of the fabric whilst looking yourself over in the mirror repeatedly. He knew you were meeting with your best friend’s fiancee tonight and that you want to make ‘the best impression possible.’ His throat immediately ran dry, his eyes hungrily drinking in your figure whilst you took his silence to be a bad thing.

“Oh no, does it look bad on me? Is it too much? Should I change? I can grab-”

A swift kiss to your lips, firm but still gentle, cut your rambling off.

“You look perfect, baby. Now you have to leave if you want to catch your Uber on time.”

“Right.” you smiled against his lips. Quickly fixing your hair in the mirror one last time and grabbing your bag - quickly shoving your phone inside - you raced to the front door in your socks, knocking over a pile of books that the god had been skimming through for the past few hours.

“I’m so sorry, Khonshu!” you felt horrible, knowing that he’d been skimming over the books for hours, as you dropped onto your knees and began to pick them up one by one. The god let out a displeased sigh - at this point, the god had come to oddly respect you and care for you in his own right. But even so, he couldn’t help but marvel at your clumsiness. It was unlike anything else he’d ever seen.

Marc was quick to arrive by your side, gently coaxing you away from the pile of books.

“It’s alright, baby, you go ahead. I’ll clean this up.”

Apologizing fervently again, you planted one last kiss on Marc’s lips before hurriedly exiting the flat, the force with which you slammed the door causing the flat to shake. Shaking his head sideways in amusement, Marc quickly went about picking up the books as the god watched from above him.

“I sincerely do not understand how one mortal can both perceive the higher realms whilst struggling to maintain basic balance and hand-eye coordination.”

Marc chuckled.

“It’s a mystery to me too.”

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

Jake didn’t worry for you nor did he find your clumsiness amusing.

No, seeing you trip, knock over, cut yourself accidentally or drop things made his protective side kick in, his body immediately wrapping around yours and shielding you from whatever danger was created. It was a bit much at times, causing even Marc and Steven to complain - “they’re London cyclists, Jake, they’re supposed to go a bit fast” - but Jake didn’t care. He hated to see you in pain, to see any markings or discoloration on your pretty skin, so it was primal instinct to be protective around you.

Sometimes you’d pout when he’d seat you away from an open flame or insist on holding your hand in open streets, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t the best with words - like Steven - nor with spending quality time with you - like Marc - so his love for you spilled over in his actions. Jake was fiercely protective of you, unafraid to snap, push or get a little violent with people if they could ever hurt you. Or if they flirted with you.

As Jake eyed the menu of the small cafe nestled in the corner of the bookstore, your order memorized like the back of his hand, he missed your figure leaving his side as a certain book cover on the top shelf caught your eye. Having decided what to order, he returned his gaze to his side to ask you if you’d like the usual, before he realized that you were no longer next to him. His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, seeing that you’d opted to climb up a ladder to reach a book on the top shelf in the historical fiction section.

His brain immediately flashed with numerous scenarios of what could go wrong - you’d fall off the ladder, hit your head on a sharp corner and get a concussion, get a paper cut from flipping through too quickly - and Jake was quick to abandon his place in line, only to be cut off by another man accidentally walking into you as you stepped off the ladder. Engrossed in whatever was written on the back cover of the book, you hadn’t seen the man blocking your pathway who was now apologizing to you profusely.

“I’m terribly sorry for that.” the man kept repeating his apologies, bending down to retrieve your fallen book. Jealousy coursed through Jake’s veins upon realizing that the man was objectively good looking, his brown hair well styled, his prim suit indicating that he probably held a well off, stable job. It was one of Jake’s insecurities - the fact that he (or Marc or Steven for that matter, but especially him) could not offer you a ‘normal’ life free of violence, doomsdays and existential threats. And the way you keep giggling and entertaining the man’s quips caused his stomach to twist and anger to bubble up in his chest, his fists clenching by his sides. Jake wasn’t thinking when he stormed up to where you were standing and pulled you right against him, lacing your fingers with his.

“Mi corazón, we should leave now if we want to catch the bus in time.” his voice was sweet when speaking to you but his glare to the man was deadly, who was now shifting uncomfortably under Jake’s stare. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, but Spencer was just about to tell me-”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence nor get your book back from Spencer as Jake quickly dragged you away, leaving the brunette man confused and alone with your book. Jake was silent for a few moments, simply dragging you behind him as you hurried your pace in an effort to keep up with him amongst the busy crowds of pedestrians.

“What was that for?” you pouted.

Jake stopped, dropping your hand before letting out a curt sigh.

“That bastardo was flirting with you. Plus, he could’ve hurt you by knocking into you while you were stepping off a ladder.”

The mix of jealousy and insecurity dripping from his voice caused your expression to soften, your delicate hands coming up to cup his face.

“It’s sweet of you to worry, Jake, but I’m fine, see? Also, even if he was flirting, I would never be interested in him. Not when I have the most handsome, caring and amazing boyfriends by my side.”

His anger slowly dissipated, your lips meeting his in a gentle manner, which he was quick to turn into a full out steamy makeout session by pinning you against the brick wall of the alleyway. You laughed against his lips at his eagerness as a small smirk spreads across his lips.

“You’re mine, mi amor, aren’t you?” he growled.

“All yours, Jake... But I did really want to buy that book so you’ll have to make it up to me.”

He kisses you again, his intoxicating mix of sandalwood and fresh leather flooding your senses.

“Of course. I’ll buy you that book. And anything else you’d ever want.”

“Can I open my eyes now?” you whined, the blindfold placed on your eyes having meant you’d been led in complete darkness for the past ten minutes. Based on the attire you were told to wear and the soft feeling of grass and dirt underneath your feet, you had a feeling you were in a hilly area or a park, but you had no idea why you were here or what Jake had planned for date night. Jake simply chuckled in response.

“In a minute.”

A few rustles of paper and the sound of fabric being straightened out, then he carefully took off the blindfold from your eyes, revealing the gorgeous sight in front. A hastily sprung out picnic basket laid out with white and red checkered squares, pinned to the grassy floor with a few glass candles. Two wine glasses and a bottle of wine sat in the middle. It was intimate and small, yet so beautifully done, you felt your heart squeeze in appreciation as you looked up at Jake’s face (which was uncharacteristically shy and withdrawn in this instance).

“Sorry for the... rather messy presentation. Steven and Marc helped with a few things but I’m usually not very good with these things, so-”

“It’s perfect.” you cut him off quickly, grabbing his hands and squeezing them in reassurance. “Thank you, thank you all so much. This is just… the best thing I could’ve asked for on our sixth month anniversary.”

Jake’s shoulders quickly relaxed, a sly smirk appearing on his face.

“Oh, just wait until you see, mi vida, what we have planned for you.”

As Jake sat down next to you, you popped open the wine bottle and began to pour him a glass, accidentally spilling some onto his pants.

“Shit! I’m so sorry-” you quickly placed down the drinks, searching for some tissues and water to help rub out the stain. But Jake simply couldn’t care, choosing instead to admire you: the way your eyes glittered in the moonlight or the way the faint glow of the candles below carved your face in shadows.

“God, I’m just so clumsy, did we bring any tissues? Or I can run down to a nearby-” you continued to ramble, becoming silent only when Jake's hand reached out for yours, wrapping around your wrist and setting you back down on to the floor.

“It’s alright, mi amor. Just sit and enjoy this night with me, okay?”

“Okay.”

And as the two of you sat in silence, the object in his left pocket felt heavier than ever.

“Thank goodness the wine didn’t spill onto the ring.” Steven remarked.

“Though, that would have been very (Y/n)-esque to do.” Marc added.

And as he tore his gaze away from the night sky and onto you, all Jake could think about was how much he wanted to spend to spend the rest of his life with you. Even through all the falls, bruises, wine spills, forgotten items and cuts you’d rack up along the way.

a/n: sooo basically I haven't posted any fics since Aug of 2020. Whew. So posting this is pretty nervewracking for me. Sorry if this fic wasn't the best, I am a little rusty. Not sure if any of my older followers are reading this but if you stuck around, thank you!

As for everyone else, please let me know if you enjoyed by liking/commenting/reblogging - if the feedback is positive I may write more in this fandom :)

❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff #jake lockley fluff #moon knight #moon knight fluff #moon knight x reader #marvel reader insert #reader insert #1k #2k #3k #4k

5K notes · View notes

grace-writes-shit · 1 year

Text

Perfect For Me (Steven Grant x Reader)

Words: 2.2K

Warnings/Themes: Angst,Self-hatred, body insecurity, hurt/comfort, fluff, light nudity (non-sexual)

Characters/Pairings: Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector

liavaleska asked:

Hellooo! How are you? I hope you are doing great. Can I request something where reader comforts Steven Grant when he is feeling insecure about his body? Ty❤️

A/N: Sorry it took me a while to get this up! But here it is and I hope you enjoy it. It came out a tab bit angstier than I intially wanted but I'm quite proud of this one! Let me know what you think :)

Tired eyes mindlessly watched the little goldfish bob around its tank. The only sound filling the apartment was that of the tank’s filter. Rain pattered against the windows. Each door that opened or closed in the building had her peeking at the door through the tank. It was a quiet evening. As it had been for the past few days, nearing two weeks.

Nearly two weeks of silence. All because the other occupant of the apartment was hardly around anymore. Something was up with one of the boys. She had hoped one of them would have confided in her. But they are alters of Marc Spector. Mr. Secret.

The notion of her husband keeping secrets saddened her. It wasn’t hard to suspect that something was wrong. Steven would be up before her and leaving for work earlier than usual. Before he would wrap himself tighter around her when her alarm would go off, begging her to stay in bed for a few more minutes.

He had also picked up the habit of jogging. At first, she had been happy for him; happy he had found a healthy hobby. But now she’s questioning how healthy it really is. The bags under his eyes darkened with the passing of each day. Getting up early, going on jogs, and working as Khonshu’s personal plaything, had to be tiring. Not to mention she didn’t really see him enough to confirm that he had eaten that day.

“At least you’re around, huh, Gus?” She murmured, chin resting on her palm. The fish swam into his pyramid. A groan left her as she hung her head. Great. Even the fish didn’t want to spend time with her. Pushing out of her seat, she decided it was time for bed. The clock on the wall read 1am.

A quick glance at her phone showed that her messages had been read. But there had been no response.

‘Hey, love. Just wondering when you’ll be home. Any ideas for dinner?’

Read at 7:30pm.

‘Hey, again, you’re probably busy so I wrapped up dinner for you. Chinese takeout, your favorite! Love you <3’

Read at 10:46pm

With a heavy heart, she typed out one last text.

‘Going to bed now. Love you, darling’

She didn’t wait for a reply and stuck her phone on the charger. Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared at the empty bed. This would be the sixth night in a row that she would be going to bed by herself. The cold, white duvet laughed up at her. Sniffling, she padded over to the closet and pulled out one of Steven’s hoodies, and tugged it on. His scent filled her nose but didn’t bring the comfort she craved. Rather, it broke the dam holding back her tears.

She wished she could help him. Wished he let her help him. Wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in whatever he was going through. If only he would just let her in. Her teeth bit into the soft flesh of her lip as she tried to stifle the sobs. Curled up on the bed, she hugged Steven’s pillow to her chest.

Keys knocking against the door had her freezing. The door slowly creaked open and heavy, tired footsteps entered the apartment. The sound of a duffle hitting the floor broke her out of her trance and had her shooting up.

“Steven?” The figure outlined by the light of the fish tank shuffled over to the bed, standing at the foot.

“No, sorry…” Marc said, voice low and, dare she say, sad. She quickly flicked on the lamp on her nightstand, beckoning him towards her.

“What’s wrong, Marc? Are- are you guys okay?”

Marc was silent for a few heartbeats, his silence giving her time to think of every possible thing that could be wrong. Steven doesn’t love her anymore, Khonshu’s asking too much, they have some terminal disease… Her lip wobbled more with each new possibility.

“No… No, we’re not okay.” Marc whispered, “Steven doesn’t want me to tell you… but I don’t think he’s okay.”

He sounded so tired, and his eyes didn’t even come up to meet hers as he spoke. Whatever was wrong, it had been going on for a while and it’s become too much for Marc to handle. With a frown, she grabbed his hand to tug him onto the bed.

While she wasn’t in a romantic relationship with him, Marc was still important to her. He was like a brother to her. Without him, she wouldn’t even have Steven.

“Tell me, Marc… Tell me what’s wrong,” she begged softly. If he closed the door now after letting her get a toe in, she might completely break down. He sagged forward with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

“I just wish I could have protected him better… All of this is my fault. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know this has been hurting you too, but I don’t know how to help him. He won’t eat; he runs until we have blisters… Hell, he’s been fronting during almost every fight and I can’t make him give me the body…”

It was as if once the words started pouring out of his mouth, they wouldn’t stop.

“The only reason I’m fronting now is that I think he was just too exhausted to…” The sigh that left him was far beyond his age. It was the sigh of someone too tired to continue. “You gotta help us, Y/N… You gotta help Steven.”

With a tear-streaked face, she nodded.

<><>

Marc had showered and changed into Steven’s favorite pajamas before climbing into bed. Y/N lay on her side of the bed, wishing that it was her husband she was falling asleep next to. She wanted to hold him close, to protect him from the dangers of his own mind. She could only hope that when she woke up, it would be Steven kissing her awake as he used to.

Her sleep was a light and fitful one. An odd form of sleep paralysis. She could hear the sounds of their apartment, and Marc’s heavy snores next to her. But she couldn’t move. Worry and fear gripped her body like a vice.

Time seemed to still be flowing as one moment she was hearing Marc’s snores, then the next Steven’s much softer breaths. Unconsciously, her hand drifted toward her husband. Her love. Her partner who needed her help.

She couldn’t be sure if her hand ever touched him. Because it was his strained whispers that had her fully conscious. The lamp in the living area was lit and he stood in front of a full-length mirror.

“You overstepped, mate. I told you not to tell her.”

She blinked heavily, unsure if this was a dream or not. A quick hand over his side of the bed told her that it was not and that he hadn’t been gone for long.

“I don’t care! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here with a big bloody scar on our chest from that fight! Or the other dozen scars everywhere else!” His voice started to rise.

She couldn’t help but stare at his back as he whispered furiously into the mirror on the other side of the apartment.

“She’s not gonna… she wouldn’t want a human scratching post. Y/N deserves more than… this. I mean, look at us…” He inhaled a shuttering breath. His strong hands gripped the edge of the standup mirror. “A million scars, rubbish bags under our eyes… gross stretch marks, unflattering dad bod.”

His final whispered confession had her finally jumping out of bed.

“I just wish I could be the man she deserves.”

She gave him no time to react before she slammed into his back, wrapping her arms around his middle and bunching the fabric of his shirt in her hands.

His breath caught in his throat, shame filling him. He could feel her sobs more than hear them. Gods, he made her upset. That had been the last thing he wanted to do, but Marc’s words from earlier rang through his head.

“You’re hurting her. Leaving early, coming home late, not making love with her, and keeping the lights off when you do. It’s hurting her. She told me so.”

A sob forced its way from his throat, and hot tears fell down his cheeks. His teeth bit harshly into his lip as he bowed his head, unwilling to look at the reflection of Marc’s pitying look.

“I’m so sorry…So, so sorry.” His hands grasped hers over his chest, right over the scar that had started this whole thing. She shook her head, whimpering into his shirt.

“No, please, Steven.” She took a shuddering breath, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not mad; or upset with you… I’m upset for you.”

His eyes screwed closed, his lips pressed into a line to suppress his cries.

“I wish I could take this pain away from you. I wish I could love these thoughts out of your mind. You do such an amazing job of protecting me; I wish I did a better job at protecting you.” She pulled her hands from his to drift to his sides and gently turned him to face her.

He kept his head bowed. The shame, the self-hatred, the ugly expression on his face, it wasn’t something she needed to see. The flinch he gave when her gentle hand cupped his cheek was uncontrollable. Her hand dropped back down to her side.

“Steven, let me help you. Whatever you’re trying to keep from me, whatever it is you are trying to hide, I will still love you. Nothing will ever make me not love you; nothing will ever make me think you are undeserving. You are the only man in this entire universe that I will ever love.”

He didn’t flinch when her hand touched him this time. Instead, he pressed his tear-stained cheek into her palm. They both let out heavy breaths. A hand littered with scars he hated so much, gripped her waist. The other, just as scarred as the right, cupped the back of her neck and he brought their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you, love. I just... I don’t know how to… how to let someone help. But I know I need it.” Steven swallowed the lump still stuck in his throat. “I am truly fortunate to have you be the one to help me, though.”

“I’m even luckier to have you,” She whispered before leaning forward to press her lips to his. His grip tightened and he pulled her flush to his chest. Flames followed in the wake of her fingers tracing up his stomach to rest on his chest, lovingly stroking the raised skin of the scar. His heart was thundering and he was sure she could feel it under her fingertips.

Salty tears blended on their skin, hiccupping sobs breaking from his sweet lips. As if touching glass, she wiped his tears away, cooing and shushing him. Chocolate eyes locked with hers. Walking backward and not breaking eye contact, she tugged him by the hand towards the bed. Steven followed obediently while wiping his tears with his sleeve.

The bed was cool against her skin as she leaned against the pillows, opening her arms for him. The air was thick with tension as he stood still, watching her. The stifling air was broken when he pulled his shirt over his head with shaking hands. His body is on full display in the dim lighting. While the suit heals wounds, it doesn’t erase scars.

It didn’t seem possible, the amount of love and acceptance in her gaze. It made his breath catch in his throat and warm goosebumps break out over his skin. Wishing for him to be in her arms, she made grabby hands for him. The action made his lips quirk up.

Slowly, he crawled in between her legs and she sat up to wrap her arms around his middle. Soft lips ghosted over the scar as her hands smoothed over his sides. His head was nuzzled into her hair and his arms wrapped around her back.

After breathing each other in, she leaned back and guided him to rest his head on her chest. His strong arms constricted around her middle. Her socked foot caressed his calf while her lips kissed the top of his head.

“If I get too heavy, I can move.” He couldn’t help but mumble. Gentle fingers carded through his hair and trailed down his back. Painted nails lightly scraped over his skin, leaving a trail of more goosebumps.

“If you dare move, I’m going to handcuff you to myself and swallow the key,” she threatened.

Steven let out a breathy chuckle and relaxed more into her. The patterns she was tracing into his skin were hypnotic and slowly, his eyes began to drift closed. A low sweet hum filled his ears.

As he focused on her fingers, he realized she wasn’t just doodling random patterns. It was letters. Words.

‘I love you’

‘Perfect’

‘Strong’

Tears pricked his eyes once more. He tilted his head to press a lingering kiss to her collarbone.

“I’ve got you, Steven. I’m not going anywhere. Not when I’ve got the perfect man for me in my arms.”

#my writing #grace writes shit #fluff #reader insert #request #steven grant #steven grant x reader #angst #tw: body insecurity #tw: mental health #tw: self loathing #moon knight x reader #moon knight #marc spector

432 notes · View notes

moonknixght · 6 months

Text

Awkward conversations and.. Fishes? (Steven Grant x GN!Reader)

Summary: Curiosity to learn more about a gorgeous store clerk of a pet shop leads Steven to buying his first pet ever. Warnings: Fluff ?? and just embarrassingly long silences Word count: 1.1k A/N: Okay please imagine that Gus wasn't Steven's pet already 🙏 Might make a part 2 if I get ideas. Also first post woohoo!! Made this account solely so I could make my ideas a reality. I'm a little rusty at writing as of right now, so bare with me </3 Requests are open for stuff!! (please talk to me)

"And this little guy here, He's a feisty one, but he means no harm." Lifting up a perched budgie on your finger, who seemed to have distrustful look on it's face, You smile widely at the latest client that had stumbled upon your small shop. You've always been a passionate soul when it came to animals; from the age 8 when you first wanted to be a veterinarian, which you quickly backed out from after slight consideration as you realized that you would have to constantly put down animals and see them in absolute pain. The next choice was arts, which you did took a degree in, before landing on the final prospect of being a caretaker to injured animals. From there, you found yourself reverting back into your obsession, eventually starting a small shelter/pet-shop where you took in abandoned and wounded animals, healed them and put them back to find new owners. It would be a lie if you said that you didn't miss any of the animals that were taken by other people, but it was also a joy to see them go to homes where they would be given full attention and loved. Therefore, you found yourself rambling about all your beloved pets to whoever stepped into your little abode with any interest— which is what was happening right now. A guy, with almost perfect curly black hair and tan-kissed skin had walked in and began to mindlessly wander, often catching your eyes while he did so. You eventually walked up to him and offered your help, to which he seemed ever so grateful for, even though it was odd that he didn't know what animal he wanted to adopt. This man was Steven Grant. and only if you knew the panic the poor guy was going through. With Jake relentlessly pushing Steven to interact with the employee he's been eyeing through the glass doors of the pet-shop, Steven found himself awkwardly cruising through the different animals, who looked up at him with expectant eyes. Clearly, He needed a plan before walking into the shop, especially when you approached him with a confused look on your face. "Uh.. I-I'm not particularly fond of birds, love." Steven gave you a weak smile, he seemed like he was scared of possibly disappointing you. "Maybe the fishes?" 'Or the cats.' Jake added from somewhere in the headspace, obviously enjoying the shit-show. "Ah." You say allowing the bird back onto the bird perch, your eyes shifting towards a small section of the shop where you tucked away a rectangular aquarium with exactly one fish inhabiting it. "Well, The options are very limited with fishes." Steven was digging himself a deeper hole each time he enquired about the animals like he was actually going to get one— but don't get him wrong, he was genuinely finding your rambles about every creature there interesting. So interesting in fact, that he couldn't possibly leave without getting something. So, the most laziest pet to have would be a fish, according to him at least. You eventually lead him to the front of the tank, where you lightly bend (which Steven also mimicked) to meet eye-to-eye with a goldfish. But this wasn't any goldfish, it was a goldfish with exactly one fin. "He's your only luck if you're looking for fishes." "Does.. Does he have a name?" Steven asked, trying to keep the conversation going. How exactly was he going to take care of a goldfish anyways? Especially a goldfish that only had one fin? What if it dies? It'll ruin his entire day. Maybe his entire week.

You tilt your head to think about it, before giving a soft shrug in response— which Steven admittedly found quite endearing. "Not really, He just came in like this I guess, Never thought to give him a name." 'A fish, Seriously?' "What about Gus?" Steven asked, turning a deaf ear to Jake's mocking comment. The goldfish paused for a second looking at the two observing it for a moment, before it continued to pace around again. It was almost like the little aquatic creature had approved of the name, but he wasn't planning on sounding like a total nutjob by expressing that out loud. "Hm, It surprisingly fits him." You say after a moment of silence. Though a second later, With a chuckle, You pick up conversation again. "You're pretty good at naming fishes, huh?"

"No! I just.. It came to me, I guess. Lil' fella looks like a Gus." "I agree."

After another moment of uncomfortable silence, Steven desperately tried to revive the exchange. "D'you know that Gus means Majestic? It fits 'cause it's quite amazing that he can swim with just a fin." 'Way to make them swoon, Steven. Buen trabajo.' Steven was truly getting sick of the unnecessary commentary from Jake, but he couldn't quite tell the wanker to piss off just yet. You, on the other hand, seemed to be intrigued by this rather sudden splurge of knowledge. Honestly, You didn't mind this at all, actually finding some amusement in how he suddenly geeked out. "Huh, I didn't know that." You said with a pleasant smile. "That's quite interesting now that you put it that way." "Yeah..." Steven's voice was small; the fear that he might have come off as weird subsided with your smile, which he reciprocated almost immediately. "I'll take him then." Your eyes lit up. For some odd reason, you didn't exactly expect him to actually get anything— Let alone a damn fish. Actually, Even Steven didn't know that he would end up being the owner of a fish, it just happened. He's technically already named the fish, it's only right that he takes it.

"Right, A moment." You nod, excusing yourself to go get the equipment needed to pack Gus away and off to settle in his new home. You come back a moment later as Steven stepped by the counter, Gus in a small plastic baggy as you balanced a small tank to put the little guy in as well as some food for the strangers convenience. Handing it off to him carefully, you nodded as you glanced at the only goldfish your store has seen be taken away. Who would've guessed. "I'll be off then, Thanks, love!" "You're welcome, Take care Gus!" You cheerfully wave them off, watching as your customer for the night took off. You sigh contently, feeling unnaturally happy about the whole interaction. Strange. — 'You bought a fish but you didn't ask for their name?' Gods, He totally forgot amidst everything. Steven had made it back home, his lip curling into a subtle frown as Jake bought forth a very valid point. The male couldn't help but sigh out loud, gently face palming as he realized his error. Maybe Steven didn't manage to catch their name or learn more about them but as he laid in his bed, he found himself recalling how beautiful that store clerk looked when they smiled. And besides, he made a new friend— a companion he was starting to adore quite alot.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x gender neutral reader #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you #x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #moonknight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #reader insert

164 notes · View notes

isawthisangel · 2 years

Text

Pyjamas (Steven Grant x reader)

word count -> 1.6k

plot summary -> getting home to Steven after a long day at work

a/n -> unprompted and unedited fluff which i wrote at 2am last night even though i had work at 9am because i suddenly realised i'd never written any boyfriend!steven and that had to change

‘Are you going to answer that or what?’

Annoyance flares inside you; you close your eyes and inhale deeply through your nose in an attempt to calm yourself. It’s a good job you’re facing the wall and not Taylor, your friend and colleague, lest they see the exasperation written across your face.

‘I’m just reading over these reports a sec. It can go to answerphone,’ you reply, not deigning to turn around and face Taylor. You like them a lot, but you really don’t know if you can stand the sight of their face right now, and it might sound harsh but overtime means that you’ve been here for nearing eleven hours, and you’re done.

Instead you glance sideways at the phone which you’re ignoring, and have been for the last three calls. It stops ringing as you look at it as though it can sense the weariness in your gaze. Thank you, you acknowledge it silently.

You glare back at the reports you’d been reading over, and the phone starts ringing again.

‘Christ,’ Taylor exclaims, and before you can do anything to stop them they’re across to your desk and sitting on it, then picking up the phone and answering it.

‘Taylor,’ you hiss, dropping your pen into your lap and pressing your palms to your forehead.

‘Helloo?’ Taylor says into the phone, smiling sweetly into the middle distance over the top of your head. You lean back in your chair and accept your fate. If it’s your boss you’re both going to be in so much trouble.

‘It’s Taylor,’ Taylor says, clearly in response to whoever is on the line asking who might be speaking. They say it as though it’s perfectly normal for them to be answering your work number.

‘What? No, she’s fine. Unless you count the fact that she’s actually dying of boredom,’ Taylor jokes, smiling at you, and you find yourself marvelling at their spirit which never seems to waver, even eleven hours into a shift. You offer up a weak smile in return, letting your hands fall back into your lap.

‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Taylor says, before holding the phone out to you. ‘It’s your boyyfriendd-’

‘Hello?’ you say, snatching the phone abruptly from Taylor’s grasp. They laugh and jump off your desk, returning to their own to give you some privacy.

‘Hey love,’ Steven says, and it’s as though his voice is a sort of verbal release for all the tension you’re carrying, which, at present, is a lot of tension. Your shoulders drop and you’re forced to unclench your jaw as you smile at the sound of his voice, your chair creaking in protest as you slump into it further.

‘Hi,’ you say, your voice audibly softer than before.

‘That’s better. I could feel you frownin’ down the phone,’ he says, and you laugh through your nose.

‘Sorry,’ you apologise, bringing two fingers up to massage your right temple.

‘Don’t be. Long day? I’ve been tryin’ to call,’ he says, and your heart clenches with guilt.

‘Yeah, I’m sorry, if I’d known it was you…’

‘It’s okay, I figured you were busy. D’you know when you’ll be home?’

You look back to the report you’d been reading, and then to the stack of paperwork you��ve yet to get through, considerably smaller than it was a few hours ago but sizeable nonetheless, and sigh.

‘It’s gonna be a late one, I wouldn’t wait up,’ you tell him despondently, fiddling with one of the buttons on your shirt.

‘Oh, okay,’ he says sadly, and you picture him as he mostly probably is right now: in his apartment, alone, sat crossed legged on the sofa with the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, sleeves pulled down over his hands, in the middle of reading something or possibly cooking dinner. Suddenly you miss him so much that it feels as though your heart folds in on itself, and you just want to be home, with him.

‘Sorry,’ you repeat quietly, stopping yourself from calling him anything which would cause Taylor to make fake gagging noises from across the room.

‘No, I said don’t apologise! I’m fine, really. Are you okay?’ he asks you, and it’s not until this moment in the past eleven hours that you’ve stopped to consider whether you are in factalright.

As tears fill your eyes suddenly, it turns out that you’re not. Steven’s soft ‘Love?’ from the other end of the phone does nothing but make your chest contract, and you squeeze your eyes shut tight to try and stop the tears.

‘Yeah,’ you manage to whisper, hating yourself. All over some stupid paperwork.

‘Y/N,’ he says your name, and there’s so much love and concern in his voice it suddenly makes everything else seem absolutely insignificant.

‘I’m okay, I am,’ you say, but you know he knows your voice too well for him to think that you’re telling the truth for even a second.

‘Can’t you get away? You’ve been there forever, they work you too hard…’ he sounds angry now, and you have to smile. You’ve heard this speech so often you practically know it off by heart.

‘I know, I know,’ you speak over him, interrupting before he gets into it properly, because then there’ll be no stopping him and you won’t be there to stop him from ‘phoning your boss personally’. ‘I really am fine, I promise. I’m just tired.’

‘You’ll be home by midnight?’ he asks. You look at the clock, and then your remaining paperwork. Just under two hours.

‘I- yeah. Okay,’ you say, resigning yourself to a few more hours of hard work.

‘Thank you. Make sure you eat, okay? Have you eaten?’

You wipe your sleeve under your eyes and it comes away black from your smudged make up. You find it very difficult to care.

‘Yes,’ you reply, and he’s got you smiling again.

‘Good. Get home safe, yeah? Call me if-’

‘I’ll be okay, I swear,’ you cut across him. You have this conversation every time you have to get home in the dark. ‘I’ll get a cab with Taylor.’

‘Okay. I love you.’

It suddenly seems impossible that you have been away from him for so long and haven’t simply passed away. You want to tell him so, but Taylor is still within earshot, so you settle for repeating the sentiment, and hoping as you do every time you say it to him that he experiences even a fraction of the emotion which the words elicit in you.

‘I love you. See you later.’

There’s a click, and he’s gone.

‘You two are disgustingly in love,’ Taylor comments, and you sigh.

‘I know.’

‘Are you okay?’ they ask, and you realise they’d probably heard you get upset.

‘Yeah. Tired, but we all are,’ you say, and Taylor stands up.

‘Two more hours. You want more coffee?’

‘Always.’

Caffeine, and the thought of getting home to Steven and putting your pyjamas on, gets you through the next two hours, and finally, finally, you and your colleagues are leaving the building, locking up and heading your separate ways.

You and Taylor cab share, which is a good thing because they actually stop you from physically falling asleep in the back seat, and then you’re dragging your feet up the stairs to Steven’s apartment.

The lights are off except for the fairy lights which you’d insisted on hanging from the numerous bookcases in the apartment, and the reading light behind one of the couches, from which Steven is blinking at you behind his reading glasses.

‘I told you not to wait up,’ you protest, pushing the door shut behind you with your back and letting your bag drop to the floor.

‘And I told you to be home by midnight,’ Steven says, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

‘It is before midnight!’ you protest before checking your phone and discovering that the time is in fact is two minutes past midnight.

‘Oh,’ you say, rolling your eyes and kicking your shoes off, which means that by the time Steven gets to you your eyes are about level with his chin.

‘Oh,’ he mimics you, sliding his hands into your jacket and around your waist, pulling you to him. You become utterly pliant in his arms, leaning into him and lifting your arms up to put them around his neck, your fingers finding their way into his hair.

He hums happily into the top of your head, and you can’t help but agree with him.

‘Missed you,’ you murmur into his shoulder, and he squeezes you, almost lifting you off of your feet.

‘Me too,’ he says, but then he’s pulling away from you which seems entirely unfair. You look up at him with a small frown and he chuckles, apparently finding your annoyance funny. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and suddenly it’s absolutely beyond you why you’d been frowning seconds previously.

‘Okay?’ he asks gently, and you nod.

‘Am now,’ you tell him, and he smiles. ‘Pyjamas?’

‘Pyjamas,’ you confirm, and soon after you’re curled against him on the sofa, tucked under his arm, your head resting against his chest in a state of what you could only describe in that moment as perfect bliss. It takes about three seconds for your eyes to fall shut.

‘Don’t fall asleep, I’ve waited all night to watch this episode with you,’ Steven says, and you open one eye as you hear the familiar sound that accompanies Netflix opening.

‘Mhm,’ you reply, and you feel and hear him sigh.

‘I’m not rewatching this with you,’ he warns.

‘M’kay,’ you murmur. He would.

‘And I’m not carrying you to bed either,’ he tells you, dropping the remote on the sofa next to him as the episode starts to play, and moving his hand to run through your hair instead.

‘Mmm,’ you hum in contentment, and feel his chest move as he laughs silently. You are absolutely not staying awake until the end of the episode, and he knows it as well as you.

Tag list💌 : @propertyofkingvalkyrie @later-gators12

comment to be added⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#moonknight #moonknight fanfic #moonknight fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader insert #marvel fanfic #steven grant fanfic #steven grant fanfiction #pyjamas #moonknight x reader

444 notes · View notes

sebastianstanisahotmf · 6 months

Text

Cuddles

Steve Rogers x Fem!reader

A/N This is one of the first fics I posted on my other account and I thought I lost it, luckily it just wasn't labelled. Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated and all mistakes are my own so if you see any just comment them.

Summary You just got home from a long mission and you missed Steve (a lot).

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff

To say you missed your boyfriend, Steve, was an understatement. You had just gotten back from a three-week long mission with Nat and Clint at an abandoned Hydra base to get some information on the winter soldier. Luckily, the mission was successful and there weren't too many problems other than a few traps that caught the three of you off guard since they were strategically placed.

However, you were missing Steve a lot. And although the mission was less than a month, and you had spent longer away from him, you were still missing Steve and his amazing hugs.

You could see Steve waiting for you as the Quinjet landed. As soon as the Quinjet opened, you were running towards Steve as he opened his arms to welcome you.

Steve groaned as he took the impact from you running into him and wrapped his arms around you as you wrapped yours around his waist. You both stayed like that for a while before you pulled back so you could kiss Steve in what felt like forever.

“I missed you so much baby,” Steve said, breathless from the kiss.

“I missed you too Stevie,” you gave him a chassed kiss on his lips before making your way to the floor you and Steve shared with Bucky so you could shower.

After your shower, you changed into one of Steve’s t-shirts and some shorts before going into the living room on your floor and joining Steve on the couch.

“Do you feel better now honey?” Steve asked.

“Much better,” you responded with a smile.

Steve lifted his left arm to rest on the couch behind you as you moved closer to cuddle into his side and rested your head on his chest. You stayed there for a while as you watched whatever show was on the tv until the end credits were rolling.

You looked up at Steve as he leaned in to meet your lips in a kiss filled with pure passion. You could feel butterflies in your stomach as your and Steve's tongues fought for dominance.

This romantic situation was then ruined by the sounds of retching coming from behind you. You turned around to see Sam and Bucky stood at the door pretending to gag at the sight of your and Steve’s affection.

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have anyone to kiss birdman,” you said to Sam which he responded to with a scowl.

“And you can't handle the fact that I've got a girl before you jerk,” Steve said to Bucky with a smirk on his face.

“Punk,” Bucky replied.

“Anyways we came here to tell you two love birds that food is ready,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.

You and Steve stood up and proceeded to walk with Sam and Bucky to the elevator.

“You two better not start making out in the elevator or else I won't want my food.” Sam said while crossing his arms.

“Jeez Sam were not animals,” you replied.

“I dunno if I believe you y/n. The things I've heard says different.” Bucky said with a disgusted look on his face.

“Come on Buck, we’re not that bad,” Steve was smiling because he knew that you both weren’t exactly quiet in the bedroom.

Once the elevator doors opened, the four of you walked out and into the dining room where everyone else was waiting for you. Everyone was sitting down and they had left four seats for you, Steve, Sam and Bucky to sit in.

You sat down next to Nat and Steve sat on the other side of you. You put your hand on Steve’s thigh whilst you used your other hand to eat.

“So y/n how was the mission?” Tony asked.

“It was alright I guess. Some of the traps were so fucking hard though.”

“Well Hydra treasured cyborg so I'm not surprised.” Tony responded.

“Hey! Don’t call me that. At least I don’t have to dress up in a stupid suit to become helpful.” Bucky snarled at Tony.

Tony just rolled his eyes before turning to Bruce to talk about sciency things that no one but them understood.

After everyone had eaten, you and Steve excused yourselves. You held hands all the way from the dining room up until you reached your ensuite where you both brushed your teeth. After that, you got into bed while Steve changed into some sweatpants.

Steve got into bed next to you and lifted his arm so you could rest your head on his chest. You leaned up so you could kiss him again before returning your head back to its previous position. You threw an arm over Steve's stomach and hooked a leg over one of Steve’s so you could be as close as humanly possible to him.

“Is there anything you want or need, baby?” Steve questioned.

“Just cuddles from you. That’s all I need Stevie.” This made Steve smile.

You kissed his chest and then closed your eyes as you slowly drifted into a comfortable slumber while listening to the steady beat of Steve’s heart.

“G’night Stevie.” you whispered sleepily.

Steve only heard your comment because of his super hearing and he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Good night darling,” Steve said although he knew you didn’t hear it because of your breathing which signified that you were fast asleep.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

If you want to join my taglist just click on the link

Also, if you want to see the posts I reblog just follow @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

219 notes · View notes

anonymityisfunwriter · 1 month

Text

To Know Him Is To Love Him

summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.

Anon's 1K Celebration

to know him is to love him.

to know him is to stand by him.

to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.

to know him is to hope that one day he'll finally see.

to know him is to be broken by him.

you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.

three months ago...

you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.

you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.

"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."

"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.

"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."

your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"

"you know what i meant. you're my friend."

you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.

"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."

two months ago...

"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."

"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."

"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"

"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.

"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.

steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.

sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."

you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."

"soulmate?" sam teases.

you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.

how blind can he be?

one month ago...

"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."

it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."

"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"

you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."

"please, i need you."

putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.

his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.

you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.

you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.

to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.

he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.

you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.

you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."

"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."

his best girl.

he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.

"i missed you so much."

you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."

"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."

you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."

an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"

you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."

"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."

"i understand."

2 weeks ago...

you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.

each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.

you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.

in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.

time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.

you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.

still, he sought you out.

you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.

you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.

at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.

your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.

"steve?"

"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."

"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"

"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."

you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."

"thank you," he sighs in relief.

"what happened?"

"the worst date of my life."

you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.

and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"

"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."

you suck in a breath, "steve..."

these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.

suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.

and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.

you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.

"steve.." you sigh against his lips.

and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."

you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"

"i should go."

and he leaves without another word.

your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.

1 week ago...

he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.

to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.

he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.

"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.

you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.

you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."

you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.

now...

you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.

the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.

"steve," you try to interrupt.

"and all i want -"

"steve."

"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"

"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."

his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"

"you know why," you spit at him.

"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."

"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."

"i don't understand."

"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."

"they why do you answer the phone?"

"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."

"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"

"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."

"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.

a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."

"before? before what?"

each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."

"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."

"and then you kissed me!"

he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."

"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."

"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."

your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."

steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."

"why did you call me the other night?"

"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."

"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."

he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."

you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"

"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."

"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."

"i do love you."

you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."

"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."

"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."

he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."

"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."

steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."

you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."

"please," steve begs.

"goodbye, steve."

you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.

a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.

to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @buckybarnessimpp @withyoutilltheendoftheline

318 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 4 months

Text

Late Nights

Neighbor!Steven Grant x gn!reader

Word count- 1.8k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), accidental voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, praise, feelings, protective!Steven,fluff, no use of y/n

Notes- This check two things: part of my neighbor Steven Grant series and a box (praise kink) for @moonknight-events Bingo. And tho it's part of a series, I wrote all the parts so that they can stand on their own. This as been in my wips for so long and I'm so happy to finally have written it!! I've missed our dear Steven too! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on new fics!

It was late, and Steven should have fallen asleep hours ago. Yet, he laid wide awake, his mind racing as he fiddled with his rubik's cube. Steven just couldn’t seem to get you out of his mind. He thought about you all day long- while he was at work, he wondered if you would like the exhibits he worked around. On the days he was lucky to pass you in the hallway on his way to his door, the image of your bright smile stayed with him well into the night. Even when he was in bed, Steven couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have you there with him, nuzzled in his arms.

He felt too nervous to make the first move, though.

But, a sound from the other side of the wall made Steven gasp- it was you. He heard you whimper and he immediately shot upright as his mind raced. Should he go over to you? Were you just having a nightmare? Or did something happen and you needed him?

As Steven pondered the options, he heard you cry out again, louder this time. His breath caught in his throat as you whined again, but this time it was different. Steven was sure he heard his name.

“I’m coming, love,” he whispered to himself as he jumped out of bed and grabbed the spare key you gave him in case of emergencies.

Steven scrambled to his door and his hands trembled as he opened it. Bolting the short distance to your door, he gritted his teeth as he unlocked your door and burst inside in a rush. Shutting the door behind him, Steven ran across the space to your bed, scared that he would find you hurt or in trouble.

But, what he found instead froze him in his tracks.

You were sprawled out on your bed, one hand cupping your chest, pinching your own nipple and the other between your legs. Your eyes were shut as your hand worked to pleasure yourself and you were lost in bliss until the sound of your name in Steven’s voice made your eyes snap open.

“Steven…” you gasped as you locked eyes with him.

The world felt like it was on fire, and as much as Steven knew he should leave, having caught you in a private and intimate moment, he couldn’t make himself move. It was as if you enthralled him, freezing him to the spot where he stood.

And you were flustered, covering yourself with the sheet as you realized you were so loud that you caught Steven’s attention. But, the way he looked at you made your heart pound. More than being embarrassed that he caught you pleasuring yourself, you felt your skin burn at the thought that he heard you cry out his name while he did so.

It felt like an eternity where neither of you moved, both too unsure of what to do or say to ease the tension in the room. It was Steven who finally moved first, though.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stuttered as he covered his eyes and turned away, “I should go.”

“Wait,” you replied out of reflex.

Steven turned back to face you, his jaw tight and his eyes burning into your figure on the bed.

“Stay,” you whispered in a soft tone as you sat up and dropped the sheet, “Please stay,” your voice shook as your nerves overtook you, but you figured it was now or never.

He swallowed hard as his hands trembled, “Are- are you sure?” He sounded just as nervous.

“I’m sure,” you replied in a hushed tone as you kicked the sheet away, exposing yourself completely to him.

Steven felt his skin warm as he suddenly felt overdressed. He felt like he was in a dream, but if he was, he didn’t want to wake up. Moving before he realized it, he crossed the rest of the space and leaned forward, placing his hands on the foot of your bed. “Are you sure about this, love?” he asked again in a low tone as his eyes drank you in.

��Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

Both of you were nervous, it was a bold move and uncharted territory for each of you. But, the need overtook the nerves. Slowly, Steven reached out for you, cupping your face tenderly in his hand. You let out the breath you held as you leaned into his touch. As his thumb brushed across your cheek, Steven also exhaled, “You’re so lovely.”

Your mouth parted as you gasped softly. Mirroring his action, you reached for him, grabbing his shirt and yanking him closer until your lips crashed together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you instantly deepened the kiss, and Steven’s hands roamed all over your bare figure. As you kissed him deeply, you tugged at his shirt, motioning for him to take it off.

“Let me see you too, Steven,” you whispered.

Steven let out a short laugh before he broke away to do as you asked. This time, it was your turn to gawk as your eyes roamed across his chest. You had always found him attractive from the moment you first met, but to see him shirtless before you made your heart flip in your chest.

“Wow…” you breathed.

He giggled nervously, “Wow to you too, darling,” he quipped.

That made you laugh as you pulled him close again, “Touch me, Steven,” you murmured as you guided him to crawl onto the bed so that he hovered over you.

Resting on your back, you looked up at Steven as his arms framed your face. The two of you froze again as you locked eyes, but this time it didn’t last. Steven was the first to move as he leaned forward and kissed you, taking the lead this time. His kiss was slow and soft, but you moaned into him as you felt his emotions in the kiss.

His hands roamed all over your body, running up and down your sides before cupping your chest. You broke the kiss to let out a louder moan as his hands ran across your nipples while he kneaded your chest.

“Steven…” you whimpered as you arched your back.

Encouraged by your moans, Steven’s hand ran down your body until one dipped between your legs. You gasped when you felt a finger at your entrance, making him pause.

“Keep going… please…” you begged.

“Can’t say no to you, love,” Steven smirked before he slowly pushed a finger into you and started to gently thrust in and out.

Your mouth dropped open as you cried out, “Steven… Feels so good…”

His eyes darkened at your words, and he couldn’t help but pick up his pace before he added a second finger, “You’re exquisite, darling.”

All you could do was moan as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, coating them in your slickness as he did so. His fingers filled you more than your own could, yet you still craved more. “Steven…” you pleaded, “Please… Need you…” you choked on your words, flustered at just how desperate you were.

“Shit love,” he breathed, astonished that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

Carefully, Steven pulled his fingers out of you before he pushed his pants down to free his cock. His heart fluttered in his chest as your hungry eyes landed on his hardened length. Slowly, you peeled your eyes away and up his body, soaking in every inch of his skin before you met his gaze. Heat rose in the room as the two of you locked eyes, and the unspoken question lingered in the air.

Swallowing hard, you nodded, answering without the words needed.

Steven whispered your name as he positioned himself at your entrance, crawling over you as the tip pushed in. Both of you gasped as he started to fill you, and you both clung to the other as your heat engulfed him inch by inch until he was completely sheathed inside you.

“Fuck, Steven,” you murmured, “You feel so good,” you couldn’t help but moan as you wrapped your arms around him, “Fuck me… Please…”

He breathed a soft, “Fuck,” in your ear as his hips moved on their own.

Moans and groans filled the room as Steven’s hips rocked against yours. What started as clumsy and unsure quickly morphed into hot and desperate as Steven thrust his hips faster.

“Yes… Steven… So good… Feels so good,” you babbled in his ear as you dug your nails into the skin of his back, desperate to feel him as close as possible.

His eyes rolled back into his head as he felt his climax already start to build. Between how good you felt and the babbling praise that flowed from your lips, he knew he wasn’t going to last. “Fuck… Darling…”

You let out a loud gasp as he thrust as deep as he could into you, hitting that sweet spot with precision, “Fuck!” you screamed, “Right there!” you opened your eyes as he paused in that moment, “You’re beautiful, Steven,” you whispered.

“Not as beautiful as you, love,” he smirked back before his hips took over again, thrusting into you with abandon.

The cries you let out echoed in the room, and both of you were sure the other neighbors could hear you but neither of you cared. All that mattered to each of you was the other, and the climaxes you both desperately chased. Incoherent babbling dripped from your lips in between your moans until you screamed even louder as your peak hit.

“That’s it, love,” Steven wasn’t sure where that came from, but as he talked you through your climax, he found it turned him on even more, “Lovely,” he preened as he felt you clench around him as you came hard, “Fuck…” he stuttered as his own orgasm hit right after yours. Steven groaned your name as he spilled himself inside of you, and he clung to you just as much as you did to him as he rode out both your climaxes together.

Completely spent and out of breath, Steven collapsed down on top of you, clumsily pulling out of you as he did so. He only relaxed for a moment, though; after hearing you gasp, he shot right back up onto his elbows to check on you, “Are you alright, love?” he asked with worry as he cradled your face.

Keeping your eyes closed, you smiled and leaned into his touch, “Never better,” you replied in a hushed tone before you kissed his palm, “That was better than how my night started,” you added with a chuckle.

Steven’s face lit up as he leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead, “I agree,” he whispered with a laugh of his own.

“Stay with me, tonight?” you asked in a meek tone.

“Anything for you, love,” Steven replied as he made himself comfortable and the two of you tangled your limbs in each other, curled up and safe in the other’s arms.

275 notes · View notes

sourwolf-sterek32 · 7 months

Text

Barely Breathing

Summary: When Steven asks why you're wearing long sleeves on a hot day, Marc quickly fronts because he knows exactly what you are trying to hide on your wrists.

Pairings: Steven Grant x Reader & Marc Spector x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Trigger Warning: Self-harm, blood, cuts (no actual description of doing it, just the aftermath), past suicide attempt (no details, just mentioned briefly)

The cuts beneath your sleeve stung as you stepped out the bathroom. The fabric of your hoodie sticking to the fresh blood underneath, but you welcomed the pain.

"Hey, love." Steven’s voice called out causing you to freeze not realising he was in your apartment.

Shit.

The two of you had plans to catch a movie today. How could you forget?

"Hey, Steven." You greeted, putting on a bright smile that you knew didn't quite reach your eyes.

Steven had always been able to tell when you were lying and when his brows began to furrow slightly, you knew he noticed. He took a hesitant step towards you. Those beautiful brown eyes filled with sudden concern.

"You alright?"

You nodded, still smiling. "Of course. Let me just grab my bag and we can go."

"Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's bloody scorching out there in the sun.”

"I know, but it always gets so cold in the cinemas." You lied, trying to keep up your usual bright bubbly tone.

You turned away and grabbed your bag off the kitchen bench making sure you had your phone and keys before heading towards the front door. The cinema was only a 10-minute walk from your apartment. You could survive wearing long sleeves for that time in the hot weather.

"Show me."

Stevens sweet British accent was gone, now replaced with a stern American one.

Marc.

"Show you what?"

You turned to face him, but when you were met with a hard yet heartbroken eyes you knew what he was referring to. Your stomach dropped, hands already shaking by your sides because he wasn't meant to know. He wasn't meant to find out.

"Y/N, show me." He ordered, his voice coming out a little rougher than usual, like he was fighting back emotion. "Please."

"There's nothing to show." You shrugged off, hoping he would drop the topic.

"Y/N-"

"I need to go to the bathroom. When I finish can Steven come back? We're meant to be going to the movies." You said, not waiting for him to answer before making your way across the apartment towards the bathroom, but Marc stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

You gave him a levelled look before stepping around him, when he suddenly shot his hand out and grabbed your wrist.

Sharp pain flared across your wrist, his fingers digging into the cuts beneath your sleeve. He hadn't grabbed you hard though, Marc was never violent, at least not with you. If anything, he was overly gentle, always afraid that he might hurt you by accident, despite you constantly reassuring him that you weren't some fragile piece of glass.

Although, right now, that is exactly what you felt like.

A fragile piece of glass. Glass that was already cracked and damaged, and on the verge of shattering at the slightest touch.

You yanked your arm out his grasp with a pained wince and Marc’s eyes widened, realising that his suspicion was correct, but you quickly turned on your heels and rushed off not wanting to see the look on his face. Would he be sad? Angry? Disappointed? You weren't sure, but you didn't want to find out.

Marc shouted your name, but you ignored him and locked the bathroom door behind yourself with shaky hands.

"No, no, baby, please. Open the door." Marc begged, knocking on the wooden frame within a few seconds.

"Go away, Marc." You responded, fighting back tears.

You leant your hands on the edge of the sink and lifted your head meeting your own gaze through the bathroom mirror. You reached down and pulled up the sleeve of your hoodie, grimacing as the blood stuck to the fabric before you looked down at the fresh cuts that were still sluggishly bleeding.

"I am not leaving. Not after this. Open the door."

Your vision began to blur with tears as you thought back to the last time Marc was banging on your bathroom door like this. The two of you were just teenagers then.

Marc had tried to help you. He tried to be there for you, but there was nothing he could do. You had wanted out. You wanted out permanently. You wanted it all to end, so that is what you tried to do with an old switch blade, but Marc broke down the bathroom door and saved you.

The thick scar still ran from your wrist down towards your inner elbow. It was a constant reminder of that day. A reminder of your lowest moment in life. You had tried to kill yourself, there was no sugar coating it and Marc knew it too.

But you didn't want that anymore… okay, that was a lie, but you weren't going to do it. You couldn't, because every time you so much as thought about it, you'd see Marc’s petrified, tear streaked face and you couldn't do it. You couldn't put him through that, not again. But you could get rid of the pain, even if it was only for a short while, which is what you had just done.

A few cuts were all it took. The pain grounded you.

It was fucked up, you knew it was, but you couldn't stop. It was the only way you knew how to cope with everything.

You needed it.

You needed the physical pain to drown out everything else, because for those few seconds with a blade against your skin, your mind was at ease. You weren't thinking about anything else. You weren't feeling anything else, and you liked it.

That's how you knew you were really fucked up, because you liked it. You actually liked the pain.

"Y/N, open the door!" Marc shouted from outside the room.

"Leave me alone." You said, hating how fragile your voice sounded.

You hadn't even realised you were crying until you felt the tears fall from your face and land on your hands against the sink.

"And leave you here to cut yourself?" He questioned bluntly.

Yes, you thought.

But you didn't say that out loud. And Marc didn't leave.

"If you don't open the door, I will break it down. We both know I can."

He definitely could, and he would do it again, you knew that.

Damn it.

Taking in a deep shaky breath, you wiped the tears from your face before reaching over and flicking the lock. The second the door was unlocked Marc rushed inside in panic.

You glanced over at him, preparing yourself for a lecture, but he wasn't looking at you. His wide eyes were glued to your wrist that you forgot to cover with your sleeve.

The cuts along your inner arm were on full view. Some were healed and scarred, others bright red and fresh.

"How long?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long have you been doing this to yourself? Days? Weeks?"

"More."

You didn't look at him as you spoke, not wanting to see the disappointment and pity in his eyes.

"Jesus Christ." He whispered to himself.

He didn't say anything after that for the longest moment. You pulled your sleeve back down and folded your arms across your chest as if hiding the evidence would make this any better.

"I can't believe this." Marc eventually said, shaking his head.

You remained silent, knowing he had more to say, but he just clenched his jaw shut as if he was trying to stop himself from saying something. It didn't last long though because his eyes suddenly met yours, pain and sadness washing over him. There was a flash of anger amongst the sadness inside him and the anger won.

"You fucking promised." He hissed.

Your heart shattered at those three words.

You had promised him. That night after he found you, you had promised that you wouldn't do anything like that again. You promised and now that promise was broken.

"How could you do this to me?" He asked, his voice breaking. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

You flinched at his sudden raised voice, and he opened his mouth to keep speaking but quickly closed it and turned his head towards the mirror, glaring at his own reflection. You knew Steven must be talking to him, but whatever he was saying, Marc didn't like.

"Don't you tell me what to do. Not with this!" He snapped harshly, still staring at his own reflection talking to Steven. "Shut up! You weren't there last time."

"Marc. Don't." You warned, eyeing him cautiously.

You didn't want him to tell Steven about what happened last time. You didn't want Steven to know. He didn't need to know, and you didn't want him to look at you or treat you differently because if he knew, then he would.

"Steven, I swear to God-" Marc started to threaten before he paused and he shook his head at his mirrored reflection, angry tears glistening in his eyes. "You weren't the one who found her bleeding out on the bathroom floor when we were kids!"

A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you quickly covered your mouth with shaky hands, unable to stop the fresh tears from rising in your eyes.

Memories of that day washed over you, but you shoved them back because if you started to think about it, you would lose yourself and you couldn't afford that right now.

Marc turned back towards you with guilty eyes, like he only just realised what he had just said.

"I'm sorry-"

"Get out." You whispered, cutting him off.

"Baby-"

"I said, get out!" You repeated, your voice no longer soft and fragile as you shouted angrily.

Marc stood there for a moment, contemplating whether to listen to you or not before you marched forward and shoved him in the chest causing him to stumble backwards, not expecting the sudden contact.

"Get out!" You screamed, pushing his chest, but this time he was ready for it and barely budged.

You tried again, but he didn't move. You began to hit his chest, screaming at him to get out, but your shouts slowly faded into sobs and before you knew it, Marc wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

That was all it took before you broke down.

Marc held you tightly while you cried in his arms. He whispered soothing words and rubbed small circles between your shoulder blades trying to calm you. His big arms were warm and comforting around you, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed your true emotions to show as you cried against him.

“It’s okay. I got you, baby. I got you.” Marc whispered while he held you.

The next few minutes went by in a blur, but when you finally started to calm down you very quickly realised that it was no longer Marc holding you. You had been with Marc and Steven for long enough to know the difference between the two of them, and this was definitely not Marc.

"Steven?" You asked, your voice coming out a mere whisper.

"Hey, yeah, it's me." He answered softly, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly in a gesture of comfort. "Marc, uh, he needed a minute."

You nodded in understanding against him before Steven slowly pulled away, keeping his hands on your shoulders, but you kept your head lowered, not wanting to see the look on his face.

"Love, look at me.”

You expected to hear him sound mad, to sound angry or pissed off after finding out about all of this, but he didn't. He just sounded sad.

"Please. Y/N, please look at me." He practically begged.

Reluctantly, you lifted your head, wiping the tears from your eyes before you met his gaze and had to do a double take when you saw that his own eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Seeing Steven on the verge of crying was all it took before the flood gates opened, tears rising in your eyes once again. A violent sob escaped your lips when you cried and Steven's expression broke.

"I-I'm sorry. Please... please don't hate me."

Steven was instantly pulling you back into his chest as he hugged you which just made you cry even more.

"I don't hate you. I could never hate you." He insisted, holding you tightly.

"I'm sorry. I-I... I'm so sorry." You whimpered, burying your face against his chest.

"No, no, it's alright. Shh. It's okay. It's okay." He soothed, kissing the top of your head. "I wish you would have told me."

"I'm sorry"

"No, I don't want you to apologise, love. I just... I want you to know that you can talk to me, alright? I'm sorry I didn't realise how much you were hurting."

"I didn't want you to know." You admitted softly, pulling away from him.

Steven sighed, “yeah, I know. But I'm here for you. No matter what, yeah? I'm always here for you."

You nodded, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying again.

Steven suddenly looked over at the mirror, Marc no doubt talking to him.

"Is he still angry at me?" You asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Steven quickly looked back at you, his expression softening as he shook his head.

"No, no, of course not. He was never angry with you. He was just scared." He replied, before glancing back at the mirror. "Yes, you were. Nah, I don't wanna hear it. You were scared, I felt it. Don't try and deny it, you were scared."

Steven didn't say anything for a moment while he listened to whatever Marc was telling him.

"I know, mate. I know. I'll tell her."

"Tell me what?" You asked, watching Steven glance back at the mirror before turning to you.

"Is it alright if Marc takes over for a bit? He wants to tell you something himself."

You nodded and Steven gave you a small smile before turning his attention back to the mirror and you watch as Marc fronted a few seconds later. Stevens smile now gone and replaced with Marc’s sad eyes.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to shout. I shouldn't have raised my voice, but I was never angry at you. I need you to know that. I was never angry at you. I was angry at myself." Marc admitted, averting his eyes in shame.

"Why?" You asked in confusion.

"Because I should have been there for you. I should have noticed something was wrong. I should have seen the signs, but I didn’t, and you had to go through all this pain alone."

Tears began to burn in the back of your eyes, but you forced them back because Marc looked on the verge of crying himself and you knew if you cried then he would too.

"None of that was your fault." You insisted, but he shook his head.

"I still should have noticed, but I didn't and when you locked yourself in here like last time, I thought... I thought..." He couldn't finish his sentence and you quickly stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him.

You didn't say anything. You weren’t sure if you could speak right now even if you wanted to. So, you buried your face in the crook of his neck as Marc’s arms snaked around your back, hugging you tightly.

"If you ever feel like doing this to yourself again, I need you to come to me, okay? Or Steven. If you don't feel comfortable coming to me, then go to him, okay? Promise me that you will come to us."

"I promise. I'm sorry." You sniffed.

"Hey, no, none of that. I just want you to be okay." He whispered, his hand cupping the back of your head as he held you. "I love you, baby. I love you so much."

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries.

A/N- Sorry I have been a bit MIA lately. Real life kinda sucks at the moment, but I wrote this short fic a few months ago during a bad time and decided to finally post it.

Thank you for reading, stay safe and stay strong guys. ily ❤️

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac imagine #steven grant fanfic #marc spector fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert #y/n #marvel #imagine

242 notes · View notes