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ichorai · 2 years

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dlz ; jake lockley.

track ten of DEAR SCIENCE.

pairing ; jake lockley x gn!reader

synopsis ; jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

words ; 3.5k

themes ; angst, mild fluff, married au

warnings / includes ; suggestive, implications of sex, jake is a rough kisser e_e, mentions of injury/blood, mild cursing, marc and steven both have appearances, jake is emotionally constipated, jake calls reader peach !! reader is a sweetheart <3

main masterlist.

Jake Lockley didn’t like your perfume—it was almost nauseatingly fresh and its smell permeated through his own clothes so that he’d often walk out smelling like he had doused himself in Febreze.

He didn’t like the way you’d hum to his favorite songs while doing the dishes. Nirvana, Elliott Smith, Radiohead—were you singing them on purpose just to annoy him? Nearly every night, he could hear your faint voice drift into the living room, where he was reading the same three sentences of the daily paper over and over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate on anything but your endearingly inconsistent mutters to the music.

He especially hated when you’d walk out of the bedroom in nothing but Steven’s shirt loosely draped over your form, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your heavy-lidded eyes. There was just something about seeing you at your most vulnerable. You were comfortable around him, and that made Jake uneasy.

When Jake fronted, he slept in the guest room. Marc had convinced him not to blow more money staying at a hotel—and Steven was trying to persuade him to at least sleep in the same bed as you. After all, they were married to you.

But Jake wasn’t your husband. Steven and Marc were. Jake was just… he was just there. A ghost living in your house.

The very thought of sharing a bed with you made a chill dance down Jake’s spine. He could never. As appealing as the thought of having you slotted between his arms, sleepily recounting how your day went to him, sounded, he couldn’t ever have that. Jake Lockley wasn’t a domestic man.

His hands would always be dripping with blood that wasn’t his, no matter how hard he tried scrubbing it away.

There were times Jake felt a morsel of regret. He was nowhere near nice to you, and yet you still spared him that infuriatingly patient, sweet smile, always telling him to stay safe before he left to drive his cab around (or do Khonshu’s dirty work), and never failing to whisper good night before slipping into your bedroom.

Sometimes he had a queer, niggling feeling scratching at the pits of his stomach one would commonly refer to as jealousy. He knew that Marc and Steven got to hold you, kiss you, tell you they loved you as they pleased.

Jake couldn’t do that. Jake wasn’t even entirely sure he was capable of loving someone.

What made it even worse was that Jake learned about you through them—not because he ever actually tried to get closer to you.

He knew you loved apricots, but not as much as peaches. He knew you loved lighting scented candles whenever it rained. He knew you named each one of your house plants. He knew you were only slightly ticklish. He knew you had a tell; your nose would twitch and your eyebrows would quirk upwards whenever you lied. He knew from Steven to kiss just above your pulse point against the column of your throat to make you melt into him. He knew you had a birthmark between your thighs from when Marc—

Yeah, he’d rather not think about that one.

Jake knew you cried a lot—that one he learned on his own. He could hear you through the walls, but you probably weren’t aware of that fact.

One night, Jake sat in the living room, staring into nothing, heart twisting angrily at himself until he couldn’t take it anymore, storming out of the apartment after shoving his hat onto his head and grabbing his cab’s keys. Steven and Marc had yelled angrily at him the whole time, but he learned to block their voices out.

He wasn’t very good in the emotional department, that was abundantly clear.

When he came back home hours later, having driven around the city several times to clear his head, he tried to be as quiet as possible. At an hour as late as this, you were bound to be asleep, right?

But alas, there you were, curled into the corner of the couch, head uncomfortably lolled onto your shoulder. The house was entirely dark save for the dim glow of the television, casting a blue luminescence over your dozing form. Long shadows kissed the slopes of your features, softened with sleep. He noticed that there were tear tracks faintly outlined over the skin of your cheekbones.

Jake froze at the doorway for a moment. Were you waiting for him to come home?

He pushed down any and all intrusive thoughts, begrudgingly shrugging off his coat and hanging up his hat. A calloused palm carded through messy, coffee-hued curls.

Heart dipping heavy within his chest, Jake stalked forward to turn the TV off, setting the remote down on the coffee table. He stood over you for a moment. A frown twisted at the corner of his lips, drawing his brows together.

Jaw clenching, Jake stepped away from you, slipping into the hall. He leaned against the door to the guest room for a moment, huffing out a low groan. Gods, what in the hell was he doing?

After another minute of frustrated hesitation, Jake willed himself to make his way back into the living room. You were twitching in your sleep, eyelids fluttering with what he could guess were the beginnings of a harsh nightmare.

Gently—or, as gentle as a highly-skilled mercenary could be—Jake hooked an arm beneath the crook of your knee, the other looping over your shoulders and neck. When you stirred, Jake could only quietly make hushing noises, wincing at himself. Thankfully, you didn’t fully awaken, a soft noise falling from your lips as your nose turned to press against the fabric of his shirt obscuring his chest, just above where his heart scratched at the walls of his ribcage.

He kicked the door to your bedroom open none too silently, eager to set you down. Get as far away from you as possible. The sound of the doorknob thwacking against the wall behind it made your lids shoot open, and you groggily mumbled incoherent phrases under your breath before peering up at him with confused, watery eyes. He cursed internally.

“You’re back,” you said, voice hoarse with disuse. “You okay?”

There were lots of things Jake wanted to say to you at that moment.

No, I’m not okay. Were you waiting for me to get home? I’m sorry if I made you worry. I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. Am I an asshole? You shouldn’t ever wait for me again. What were you dreaming of? Was it a nightmare about me?

Instead of any of that, Jake merely set you down onto the mattress with a grunt, dusting his hands onto his pants. He glared down at you as if he was angry—and he was, but not necessarily at you.

But wasn’t he, though? He was angry that you were just so… so kind to him. He was angry that you were patient. He was angry that you were so easy to love.

“Go to sleep, peach,” he gruffed. A hot flush coursed over his face at the nickname that had unintentionally slipped out. To his relief, you didn’t seem to notice.

Your sleepy expression seemed to cave in on itself and you dazedly nodded, head falling back into the pillow.

If only he could slip in beside you, entangle his legs with yours as you kissed softly over his tense face, call you his.

Jake nearly slapped himself to get his head screwed on straight. He spared your already-sleeping form one last glance before trudging out of your room. Hurriedly, he threw himself into the guestroom, ripping off his shirt and pressing a palm flat against his chest to quell the racing thunder of his heart.

You were not good news for him.

You didn’t see Jake for weeks after that incident.

A part of you was glad—you were beginning to miss the sound of Steven’s sweet voice, his tender touches, his passionate kisses. You missed Marc’s back hugs, his strange fixation with your bare legs, his lopsided smiles.

The other part of you, however, wondered about Jake.

“Does Jake ever… say anything to the two of you?” you asked Steven one day, stirring sugar into your steaming tea as you leaned against the kitchen counter. Your husband looked up from the novel he was reading, pushing his glasses up his nose while considering your question.

“Sometimes. Mostly stays to himself—quite the quiet bloke, innhe? Why, love?”

Your bottom lip trembled as you glared into your tea, as if it was the source of all your troubles. Steven was immediately out of his seat, tugging you close until your forehead rested upon his clavicle bone. You sniffled into him, crushing your eyes shut with shame.

“Does he hate me?” you asked, voice cracking. “I don’t… I don’t know what I did to make him—”

Steven immediately held you all the closer, crooning out, “No! No, of course not, silly. He’s just… he’s just having trouble with himself, that’s all. Doesn’t really talk to us much, either. It’s not you, love, I promise. In fact, I’m nearly certain he fancies you.”

“You’re not just saying that?” you said, scrutinizing him with wide, glassy eyes. “I don’t need him to love me like you and Marc do. I just… it’s hard when it feels like a man with the same face as your husband hates you.”

Steven’s expression crumbled, and he kissed over your left eyelid softly. “I know. I’m sorry, darling, I can’t imagine what that’s like.” Rubbing soothing circles over your back, he urged you to take a seat next to him, leaning over to move your mug of tea from the counter to the kitchen table. “Come on, I’ve got an amazing poem I want you to read.”

It was only two days later that you saw Jake again. You strode through the door, juggling grocery bags in one hand and a stack of books you borrowed from the library in the other. With a huff, you set the groceries down in the kitchen, turning around to see Jake quietly observing you, leaning against the fridge. You bit down a startled scream, flinching at his unexpected presence.

“Oh,” you said after a second of flustered silence. “Hi, Jake. Didn’t see you there.”

He was observing you with such a sharp gaze that it felt like his irises were cutting straight through your flesh. Finally, he pushed away from the fridge, slowly moving towards you until he stood just in front of you, about an arm’s length away.

“Jake, what are you—?”

“I don’t hate you, peach,” the man said, all gravelly and brusque.

It took you a moment to fully register what he was saying. “Oh,” was all you said, parroting yourself from five seconds ago in a rather poignant manner. “Well… I don’t hate you, either, Jake. Far from that.”

You could see the struggle in the dark depths of his irises. Turmoil raged behind those narrowed lids, and you couldn’t bring it in yourself to look away, not even if you tried.

Feeling bold, you shuffled forward to slowly raise your hands, cupping Jake’s face within your palms. His glare seemed to harden at first, always so angry at things for not going the way he expected it to go, muscles tensing beneath your touch—but when your fingers gently scraped over his stubble, he could feel himself letting go, practically liquefying into you.

“Why are you like this, Jake Lockley?” you murmured, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. The action made his eyelids flutter shut. He’d never let himself be this vulnerable in front of you before. He wasn’t prepared for his walls to come crashing down around him so quickly—so easily. “Did I do something to upset you?”

All previous inhibitions thrown out the window, Jake grumbled out a small, “Yeah. All the fuckin’ time, peach.”

You quirked a brow. “Go on, then.”

One of his eyes opened before sliding closed again. “Where do I start? You smell too good—I can never concentrate around you. You’re always singing my favorite songs and it’s buggin’ the hell outta me. You’re always so nice to me—even though you know I’m not like your precious Steven and Marc.”

Something akin to a guffaw fell from your lips. “Well, first of all, thank you? Somehow you managed to compliment me in the rudest way possible, and I commend you for that. Second, I know you’re not like Steven and Marc. But I still love you all the same.”

The kitchen grew so quiet, Jake could’ve sworn he’d be able to hear a pin drop.

His heart began tripping over its own gallop of a pace. You’d said it so easily, so swiftly, as if loving him came as naturally as breathing.

Jake found his eyes falling to your mouth, slightly puckered to the side in thought.

Noticing his sudden change in demeanor, you started saying, “Jake—?”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted, glowering at you with a newfound fire crackling behind his eyes.

You blinked once, then twice. Then you nodded.

A small sigh of content that made Jake far too excited for his own good escaped your lungs as he dove forward and melded his lips with yours, dipping you backward ever so slightly in the midst of his vigor.

He kissed differently than Steven or Marc did. Steven was languid, careful, and tender whilst Marc was feverish, calculated, and explorative.

Jake Lockley, however, kissed like a mad man. He was all tongue and teeth, desperately furious with his motions, kissing you as if it was the very last time he’d have the chance to do so. His nose slotted against yours, brushing against your cheek as you caved into him, arms winding over his neck to pull him ever so close.

His fingers immediately clutched at your waist, one moving upwards beneath your (Marc’s) shirt to lightly scratch over the skin of your ribcage and the other shifting lower to tug over the back of your thigh.

Gods, you just felt so right.

“Mmh, peach,” Jake growled into your skin as he traversed down your neck, biting at the spot just above your pulse point, which made a low, desperate noise scratch at the back of your throat. He’d do anything to hear that noise over and over again.

“Why do you call me that?” you panted out, fingers threading through his haphazard curls to haul him away from your neck and back onto your lips.

“You like peaches,” he breathed into you, a groan of agony rumbling from his chest when you nipped at his bottom lip with a hum of approval. “Don’t you?”

A choked sound was all you could let out when he shoved you none-too-gently against the counter, bending over to accommodate for his eager lips over yours.

“I love them,” you whispered once he parted away to catch his breath.

There it was again. The L word.

Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

Suddenly, as if snapped back into reality, Jake halted any and all ministrations, nose only a hair's breadth away from your neck. You smelled so damn good, so tantalizingly tempting, lips raw-bitten and skin flushed with heat.

But Jake couldn’t. You didn’t belong with a person like him. With Steven? Yeah, of course. With Marc? The idiot loved you too much to ever let you go, even if he tried to.

Jake would bring you nothing but pain and misery and the thinly-veiled threat of danger.

“This is a mistake,” he said, voice rough with tremendous restraint.

He thought that if he kissed you, all these stupid feelings would wash down the drain, as if you’d be able to suck it all out of him like a goddamn love vacuum. But, no, it was as if just having a taste wasn’t enough. He needed the rest of you. He needed all of you.

But he couldn’t.

“Jake…” Your voice was quiet, breaking off slightly when he let go of you, stepping back while glaring a hole into the ground.

With the maturity equivalent to that of a prepubescent teenager, Jake stormed out of the kitchen and into the hall, slamming the guest room door behind him so hard that the picture frames of you and Steven and Marc on the walls rattled.

A week passed by until you saw Jake again.

You were in bed with Marc, shivering as he ran his palms down your waist, swatting his hands away while gritting out, “That tickles, Marc!”

He hummed noncommittally, pressing kisses down your shoulder, nosing your cheek affectionately.

“Tell me about this one,” he whispered into you, taking your hand to trace a thin scar over the inside of your wrist.

“I was seven,” you whispered. “This boy pushed me off a swing in the playground. I threw my hands out and a rock got me bad—fractured my wrist, too. I don’t remember much, but I remember there was a lot of blood. I’m pretty sure the poor kid was the one that ran screaming for a teacher to come help.”

Marc regarded you with a look of pure adoration, thinly laced with amusement. “Did you really just call the bastard who pushed you a ‘poor kid’?”

You barked out a laugh and he pressed a lasting kiss over your faded scar.

“Alright, your turn. Tell me about this,” you playfully pressed your thumb between his brows. “You got a little divot here. Been furrowing your eyebrows too much, huh? And you wonder why I call you the grumpy eagle muppet.” When he rolled his eyes, you chuckled out, “What? Listen, it’s not my fault Khonshu got rid of all your scars! I gotta work with what I’m given, here!”

“That’s enough out of you,” Marc bit out, though you could tell he wasn’t really being serious with the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, turn around. Sleep time, baby. Love you.”

You hummed in mild contentment, turning around so your back molded perfectly against his chest. “Love you, too, Marc.”

The rise and fall of his chest was deep, rhythmic, so calming that you were just on the brink of sleep—

Until it stopped.

You could feel the body wrapped behind you stiffen. Immediately, you knew this was Jake.

With a lump lodged in your throat, you hesitantly turned around, only to be met with Jake staring back at you, wide-eyed. It was dark, so you could just barely make out the upset tautness of his features.

Jerkily, he started moving to clamber off the bed, all but shaking you off of him like you were a pesky insect.

No. No, you wouldn’t stand for this.

“Jake,” you said firmly, reaching out to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Stay. Please.”

Mute, the man shook his head, legs slipping out from beneath the blanket.

Desperate, you sat up, wrapping your arms around his midriff and pressing your cheek into his back as you said, “You deserve love, Jake. You deserve my love. Please, stay.”

For a moment, you wondered if he’d just push you off again. Disappear into that guestroom you were too scared to venture into when he left for work. Just when you were on the near precipice of relinquishing any and all hope, you could feel Jake’s shoulders sag. His head hung low as he sighed.

Wordless, he shifted around and you let go of him so he could slip back under the covers.

Tentative, you laid down next to him, shifting so your head could rest over his chest. His arm jostled around to rest comfortably beneath your neck.

Jake held you differently from Marc and Steven.

Jake held you as if he was afraid you’d break apart. Jake held you like he had to be ready to let you go at any moment. Jake held you like he was afraid to show you just how much he loved you.

You craned your neck upwards to press a light kiss to his stubbled jaw, then settled back down.

You heard Jake sigh, but this time, it was one of pure relief—utter bliss. It was quiet, but it was there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, nose tucked into your hair. “I’ll try to be better with you. I’ll try, peach.”

Nodding minutely, you intertwined your hand with his free one, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “I know.”

Just before your breaths evened with sleep, Jake could only barely hear you drowsily mumble out, “I love you, Lockley.”

He knew you were already asleep, which made the feat of saying it back somewhat easier for him.

“Love you, too, peach.”

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mrknightsbf · 2 years

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— Grief

Marc Spector / Steven Grant X Gn!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: Marc is haunted by his brother's death and abusive mother, but you're there to help make him remember it's not his fault.

Warnings: Child Abuse mention, Drowning mention, DID

Word Count: 1.3k

Marc Spector, the Moon Knight, is a deeply troubled man. A devil to some. He was sure he'd never escape from the never ending hell that was life.

Until he met an angel, one to pick him up from his sorrows. You.

It was another sleepless night for Marc, while you beside him were sleeping perfectly fine, he was staring at the ceiling, a blank expression on his face. He looked over at the clock to see the time which read “2:27” in the morning, making him sigh. He rolled over on his side to face you, and a light smile creeped on his face at your peaceful expression.

One of his hands reached over to your face and gently caressed your cheek, looking at you with hearts practically in his eyes. Marc was very grateful to have you in his life. Someone who loved him and dealt with his alter, Steven who you loved just as much because to you, they were the same person, just a little different in their own ways. Someone who didn't mind his terrible past of killing, even before he was Moon Knight. Someone who was amazed by his powers as Moon Knight and not scared like the rest. He couldn't believe he found someone like you who wanted to be with him. He always thought he was undeserving of true love after all the bad things he's done in his life, because he didn't want to hurt anyone else, like his mother who completely changed after his brother died.

Marc Spector was absolutely head over heels for you, even if he had trouble showing it at times, Steven would help him and it would work now that the two have accepted each other. But he was terrified of hurting you somehow. Whether it be by his stupid impulsive decisions, or by his third alter, the one he doesn't even know about just yet. He couldn't lose another person who genuinely cared about him. He'd lose his mind and become worse than before he met you.

“I love you, baby,” Marc whispered to your sleeping figure.

“Marc?” You asked in a raspy voice, stirring awake and opening your eyes to see your boyfriend facing you.

Marc smiled slightly before responding, “Hey, I didn't mean to wake you up.”

You shook your head subtly, “No, it's okay. What time is it?”

“Almost 3 in the morning,” Marc answered.

“Couldn't sleep again?” You asked him despite already knowing the answer.

Marc just nodded in response, his eyes averting from you in shame. He felt like a coward for being afraid of sleeping, because of the nightmares, and because of his third personality. He finally understood how Steven felt after he did it to him for so long, and it felt terrible. It was a daily occurrence, now. For you to wake up without him by your side, for him to just stare at the wall or you while you slept fine, for him to attempt and sleep only to be awoken by screams which wake you up in the process. He hated it. Being weak. He was so used to Steven being the “weak”, compassionate one that it was so odd for Marc to feel it alone.

“Come here,”

Marc was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard your words, and when he looked back at you your arms were wide open for him to crawl into. He stared at you for a few seconds, hesitating to become so vulnerable for once in his life before he slowly inched closer to you. Once he was close enough for you to reach, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him towards you, one of your hands immediately going up into his hair. The feeling of your warm embrace was enough for Marc to let himself finally relax, as he looked anywhere but your eyes, too ashamed that a grown man like him needed such reassurance.

“It’s okay, you're okay,” You said to the male quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“It’s all my fault,” Marc spoke even quieter than you, but it was clear enough for you to hear. “He…He died because of me,”

You shook your head though he couldn't see it, he felt it. “No he didn't. You were just a little kid, you couldn't have known any better.”

“I should have, though,” Marc responded, looking down at your free hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “If i didn't take him there, it wouldn't have happened.”

“You don't know that, Marc. The world works in odd ways. Don't blame yourself when it wasn't even your intention. You didn't know any better.” You could feel his breathing steady out but he still didn't spare a glance at you. Not that you minded. You knew how insecure Marc was when it came to his family and discussing the past like this. You had learned by now to just give reassuring words and physical expression rather than have him actually talk about it deeply unless it was times like this. Times where he couldn't control the immense guilt he'd been feeling since his brother drowned. Where he couldn't control the sadness of his mother hating his being and beating him because of it.

Marc’s next words were so quiet that you weren't able to hear him, and he knew by how your actions stopped and he looked at you for a split second before back at your connected hands. “Don't leave me, too,” He repeated just hardly loud enough for you to hear.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, having never heard these words from your boyfriend before. You didn't expect him to say something like this before, and it worried you deeply. “I won't, Marc. I promise,” You said, resuming your movements.

Marc finally looked at you and all you could see was pain in his eyes. A sight you'd seen many times before. He looked almost on the verge of tears, like he was trying to hold them back and ignore this terrible feeling he was having. “I-”

Marc’s expression suddenly changed and he now looked at you with a smile, “Oh, hello, love!” A british accent came from the male and you knew it was Steven talking now.

“Hey, Steven,” You smiled back at him.

“Erm, why exactly are we in this position? Not that I don't mind it! But I’m just a little lost,” Steven chuckled lightly at the end.

“Marc’s having a hard time again,” You answered.

Steven nodded, “Well, I guess we’ll have to stay like this then!” He said before wrapping his arms around you.

A light laugh came from you at the sudden action and you looked down at the man with a smile, “Hey, Steven?”

“Yes, love?” He said, closing his eyes.

“You really are Marc’s light in life, don't ever leave him. Because there's no telling if one day I’m gone, but he’ll still have you. So just don't leave him, please,” You told him.

Steven hummed lightly, “I won't.”

“Thanks, Steven,” You replied.

You glanced down and saw your boyfriend’s expression change again and he opened his eyes, looking up at you. “I’m sorry.” The American accent was all you needed to hear to know it was Marc talking again.

You shook your head, “Don't apologize, Marc. It's okay,” You said to him.

Marc sighed, pulling you closer to him and laid his head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. “I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Marc. I always will.”

#marvel x reader #moon knight #moon knight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight imagine #marvel imagine #marc spector imagine #steven grant imagine #moon knight scenarios #marvel scenarios #marc spector scenarios #steven grant scenarios

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heartsumu · 2 years

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After all this is over and hopefully Jake and Steven stay, I imagine Layla cooking food and then calling out, "Marc, Steven, Jake come over! Food's ready!" Like she's calling three big dogs or something. And in comes bounding a single manfaceset in whoever is in control at that time.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #layla el faouly #moon knight scenarios

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writefightandflightclub · 7 months

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Don’t mind me I’m just imagining a touch-starved!Marc Spector finally breaking. Wandering into your expedition tent at night with those earnest, wet, puppy-dog eyes of his. Collapsing to his knees at your bed side, his brow tacky with sweat, and his muscles tense - with a problem.

“Please.” His voice breaks. Cracks apart; dry as a desert, rough as sand. He evidently can’t take this - whatever this is - a second longer. “Please. I need. I… Would you… w-would you touch me?”

Your body comes to life, his question bristling all the way across your hot skin like it was your own, so deeply craving sensation yourself. “Touch you where, Marc?”

His eyes are huge and glassy, almost tearful. A tight gulp trails down his corded neck before his eyes fall -ashamed- to the fat bulge at his shadowed crotch, the soft yellowed light illuminating the torment gathered in the sharp planes of his face. “Where I need you. Please. I can’t…”

Your mouth drops open in understanding, and with it Marc becomes increasingly desperate, his last ditch attempt spilling out of him before he can stop it - before you can ruin him even further with a no. His palms flatten then fist into the rumpled, curled edges of your covers.

Stars - his hands are shaking. His pulse trembling -quickened- in his throat. “Please,” he croaks. “I need you. Your hands… Anything. Let me work myself up in my pants just pushing up against you. I just… I…” He mouths the word without breath now, without sound - please - and he buries his face in your covers, deathly ashamed of himself.

Oh gods. But he doesn’t need to feel ashamed, though. Not at all.

And so, with molten heat throbbing through your core, you peel the covers back, and you softly beckon him towards you.

“Marc.”

He looks up at you from beneath those long, fanning lashes. Surprised it’s not a “no”. Surprised it’s not a rejection, because that’s all he has ever known.

He looks… relieved. Relieved, when the welcome in your voice touches him more deeply than any sensation he’s felt in far too long; but you can’t wait to deliver him so much more.

So much more touch. So much more relief.

Marc. Sweet Marc.

He never needed to beg for you.

You will show him just how willing you are to fulfil his wants and needs - again and again, in fact; until he is wholly quenched.

He crawls into the bed by your side as though he doesn’t belong there - doesn’t know how to be there. But, when your fingertips skim his flesh - even through his clothes - he moans, all broken and breathy, yet with enough feeling that the ancient gods must feel it rock through the depths of the earth.

“P-Please,” he stutters, a tear rolling down his cheek. Across the bridge of his nose. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop touching me.”

#marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #send help #why am I like this #what do people who DON’T imagine blorbo scenarios do with their time exactly?#like fr 😅

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pinchofhoney · 9 months

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Hi! Congrats on your 400 followers!! 🎉

I would like to request Steven Grant with the letters i) and m) ❤

hiya, thank you so much and thank you for sending request! as steven is my best boy, i hope i did my best and you'll enjoy this as much as i enjoy wrinting it!!<33

» fluff alphabet event

» special events masterlist

i: i love you how fast do they say the i-word?

Steven is not the type of person to rush into saying "I love you" without being absolutely certain of his feelings. He might be a little hesitant to speak those words out loud because he not only values the depth of vulnerability that comes with it, but also he might be scared of getting hurt. His gentle and considerate nature guides him to pick the perfect moment to express his emotions verbally, wanting it to be a meaningful experience.

But let me tell you about Steven's heart, which is undoubtedly one of the kindest and most caring ones you'll encounter. His love knows no bounds, especially for those he holds dear. It's a love that blossoms in every moment you spend together. When you wake up, he greets you with a warm and affectionate embrace, letting you know how happy he is to start the day with you by his side and as the day unfolds, he finds joy in surprising you with gestures that fill your heart with delight. Perhaps it's a thoughtful text message that brightens your busy afternoon or a surprise visit to your workplace with a homemade meal, just because he knows how much it means to you.

As you spend time together, you'll notice that Steven's affectionate nature is not confined to grand gestures; it's the little things that make all the difference. Whether it's a loving gaze, a gentle touch, or a warm embrace, he makes sure to show you just how much you mean to him every day. It's in those simple, yet meaningful acts of love that his heart truly speaks.

So, even though he might not say "I love you" right away, know that his love for you shines through in every small detail. With Steven, you're enveloped in a cocoon of care and appreciation, where you feel safe, cherished, and truly loved. And when the time is right, when his heart is brimming with the overwhelming depth of his emotions, those three magical words will leave his lips, genuine and overflowing with the sincerity of his heart.

m: morning how are mornings spent with them?

Even though Steven doesn't sleep very well, every morning he ensures it's the nicest one for you. When he's home, he wakes up with a gentle smile, not wanting you to worry about his sleep problems. After cuddles and many affectionate little kisses, he delights you with a cup of your favorite freshly brewed coffee, and despite his own fatigue, he's always enthusiastic about preparing a delicious breakfast, carefully considering your preferences and needs. And let's not forget about Gus the fish! He also gets his long-awaited breakfast along with his daily good morning hello.

After breakfast, Steven surprises you with little notes of encouragement, strategically placed around the house, reminding you of your worth and how much he appreciates you. He goes out of his way to create a peaceful and pleasant ambiance in the home, playing soft music or humming to himself while getting ready for work, making you feel comfortable and cherished.

Despite his lack of rest, Steven remains incredibly attentive and engaged during your morning conversations. He listens intently to what you have to say, never rushing you, and ensuring you feel heard and valued. His caring and affectionate nature brightens up the start of each day, making you feel lucky to have him as a partner.

Even if he's exhausted, Steven takes the time to plan activities or outings after his shift that bring joy to both of you. Whether it's a walk in the park, exploring a new museum, or simply enjoying quality time together, he prioritizes making lasting memories and ensuring your happiness.

Mornings spent with Steven overflow with love, thoughtfulness, and genuine care, as he consistently goes ten thousand steps the extra mile to ensure your day starts positively, despite his own struggles.

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takenbypeter · 2 years

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Love You, Gators

Steven grant x reader

Words: 435

Summary: First I love you’s with Steven

~~~~~

Steven didn’t know why you were acting strange. You were acting off, not in a bad way, more of just in a weird sort of way.

“Need help with that?” He asked, grabbing a rag to help you finish the dishes. “No I got it,” you replied offering a smile and he smiled back lips in a tight line as he placed the cloth back on the table.

Taking steps away from you he kept thinking, what was it? What was bothering you? Closing his eyes, he tried to recount if it was anything he did.

He woke up running late, greeted you, started getting ready, you said, “have a good day, I love you.” And he said, “you too, laters gators,” and left. See nothing out of the ordinary.

The crease between Steven’s eyebrow deepened as he went over the events again until finally his eyes widened. “Oh bollocks,” he whispered when the realization hit him.

“You love me.” He said, mouth left slightly ajar. “What’d you say?” You ask, not quite hearing his whisper over the sound of the running water. Steven treads closer until he’s standing beside you. You focus on the dish in hand while his gaze remains on you.

“You said you loved me, didn’t you?”

“Yes I did,” you said, matter of factly.

“And I didn’t say it back. I was supposed to say it back, wasn’t I?”

You gave your head a little shake, “I don’t want you to say it, if you don’t want to say it.”

“No, no I do. Gods know I’ve been whispering it under my breath for the past weeks, now I can finally say it to your face.”

Attention gained you shut off the faucet and fully turn towards him.

Steven’s got a nervous smile on his face, eyes decorated with his normal dark circles underneath them, while his cheeks seem to darken and his hands rub together anxiously. “Well now it’s actually more nerve wrecking since I just told you I’m going to say it,” he chuckles out.

“You don’t have to say it right now,” you say with a smile on your own face. Honestly it didn’t bother you that much, you knew he did love you, even if he didn’t say it. But again he rejected the idea.

“Wait, I’m going to say it. I’m just going to say it.” He forced his hands to his sides and immediately closed his eyes, took a single breath, then opened them, finding yours before breathing out, “I love you,” a toothy grin growing on his lips as he said the words.

#steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel scenarios #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #mcu imagine #mcu x reader

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flowercrowngods · 10 months

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come on brain. do brain things

#i have to do a 'progress report' presentation on Tuesday. i have neither progress nor report. i dont even have a topic or thesis statement #and all i can think about are steddie scenarios all i can think about is bard eddie mooning over his knight #all i can think about is reading all the fics i've been saving for later all i can think about is writing and existing and aaah #but NO!#i have to do a minimum effort thing (honestly the presi is only 10 min max talking about my thesis statement and my main points)#(which i do not have because i'm the kind of academic lunatic who just wings things lmao. LET ME WING IT BRAIN!!!)#someone challenge me to do this so i can write more bard eddie later today or just yell about things

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cyanide-sippy-cup · 5 months

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The Amazing Spidey-Lover Mashup Spectacular!

Today will finally answer the question: Who is the love of Spidey's life? I will edit the post and make a separate one announcing the winner, so make sure to check back at the end!

And congratulations to our winner! By a landslide, it turns out Spidey's one true love is...

Wade Wilson!!

Nobody really gave him a run for his money outside of MJ, he absolutely demolished the rest of the competition.

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simpformoonkight · 2 years

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Incorrect quotes with moon knight x reader!!

Mark : *Gently taps table*

Steven : *Taps back*

Layla: What are they doing?

Y/n: Morse code.

Mark : *Aggressively taps table*

Steven : *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

__________________

Mark talking about him and steven: Tonight, one of you will betray us.

Y/n : Is it me, Mark ?

Mark : No, it’s not you.

Layla: Is it me, Mark ?

Mark : It’s not you either.

Khonshu: Is it me, Mark ?

Mark :

Mark , mockingly: Is IT mE Mark ?

__________________

Mark : You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Steven : Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Mark : I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING LAYLA WITH ME

Y/n, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

__________________

Mark : Steven isn’t answering their phone

Layla: I’ll call

Mark : Y/n and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Steven : Hello?

__________________

Mark : Steven , I'm sad.

Steven : *Holds out arms for a hug* It’s going to be okay.

Layla: Y/n, I'm sad.

Y/n, nodding: mood.

__________________

Layla: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are.

Twaret: It’s not a joke.

Twaret: *sniffles*

Twaret: I’m a legit snack.

__________________

Jake: We need to get through this locked door. Steven, give me your credit card.

Steven: Here.

Jake, pocketing it: Thanks. Mark, kick down the door.

__________________

*khonshu is cooking*

Mark: Any chance that’s for me?

Khonshu: It’s for Jake . I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side.

Steven: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

#writing #headcanons #quotes #scenarios #moon knight x reader #moon knight steven #moon knight marc #mark and steven #steven grant x reader fluff #mark spector x reader #layla moon knight #layla el faouly #khonshu #moon knight khonshu #incorrect quotes #incorrect moon knight quotes

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ichorai · 2 years

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love dog ; steven grant.

track eight of DEAR SCIENCE.

pairing ; neighbor!steven grant x gn!reader

synopsis ; your neighbor was delusional. he cried a lot, spoke of nonsensical happenings, and always appeared somewhat lost. you found yourself to be rather fond of him.

words ; 2.6k

themes ; mild fluff, mild angst, neighbors au

warnings / includes ; difficulty sleeping, both reader and steven aren't aware that he has DID, steven is just struggling :( someone pls get him some help, mentions of pigeon skull (aka khonshu), alludes to mr. marc spector, set in episode one of mk !!

main masterlist.

There wasn’t ever a person in your life that bewildered you as much as your neighbor, Steven Grant, did. He was quite the strange character; always coming back home after work only to promptly leave again as soon as the moon rose high into the night’s horizon. He’d be gone until only an hour before the sun crept back up.

The only reason you knew of this was thanks to the lovely fact that the walls weren’t exactly soundproof—if you pressed your ear up against the pale cream of your bedroom’s plaster, you’d be able to hear the irregular shuffling of his feet, the quiet mutterings under his breath, or the audio book he always played to help him stay awake. Sometimes, you’d hear random screams of terror early in the morning before your own alarm had gone off, jolting you out of your peaceful slumber.

The thin walls made sleeping quite the difficult task for you.

You had a couple of working theories—maybe he had some sort of dirty secret he wanted to hide? Or maybe he just had difficulty sleeping in his own home? It could be that he worked two different jobs at once. That would certainly explain why he looked so inexplicably tired whenever you saw him.

Sometimes he’d track sand out of his door in his rush to go to work and you were left dumbfounded, wondering how on Earth a person could dirty up the hall from the inside out and not vice-versa.

Other times, you’d bump into him while on your way to take out the trash. His dark locks of hair were mussed to no return, bags beneath his eyes a prominently darker shade than the rest of his tanned complexion. Before he realized that you were just behind him, you caught sight of his perplexed visage, as if he was just stricken awake in a less than fashionable manner. Once he did see you, though, he would greet you with a tired smile and a quiet query on how your day was going before gingerly grimacing—you could’ve sworn you saw a faint streak of dried blood on the side of his temple—though you supposed that might’ve just been a trick of light.

On the rarest of occasions, you’d walk past him in the hall, uttering a quiet hello. He’d looked at you with a somewhat clouded expression—a frown notched itself into his lips, eyes wearing an entirely different light; one that was cold and distant. He looked like Steven but for some peculiar reason, it didn’t feel like him. And when he grumbled out a blunt, “Hi, Y/N,” you couldn’t help but notice that his accent had magically disappeared.

Weird.

It was a cold night the day you stepped into the ground level of your flat building, juggling a backpack full of books you borrowed from the library and three reusable bags full to the brim with groceries from the halal store down the block. You awkwardly bent down to jab your elbow into the call button for the elevator.

Imagine your surprise when the metal doors slid open to reveal your neighbor curled up into a ball in the corner of the elevator, raw terror etched over his features as clear as day. He was shaking terribly, palm clamped over his mouth and eyes mimicking the shape of saucepans.

A hesitant pause.

“... Steven?”

The sound of your voice seemed to rock him out of his stupor just enough for him to pry his fingers away from his face, blinking up at you as if you were some sort of illusion. “Oh. Hullo.”

You tilted your head curiously, slowly stepping into the elevator before it could rumble shut. “What, uhm, what are you doing down there?”

It took him another couple of seconds to formulate a coherent response. “Just—dropped my contact lens, silly me.”

“Do you need help?” you asked, shifting the groceries onto one arm so you could have a free limb if need be.

Steven pushed himself back onto his feet, legs still wobbling. He looked at you strangely, somewhat akin to awe and gratitude. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had ever offered to help him.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he said, dusting his pants off. He seemed so awfully confused, evident by the slight knit to his eyebrows and the anxious down-curl at the corner of his lips.

Tentative, you spoke up. “Steven?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t wear contact lenses, do you?”

Your neighbor winced, shooting you an apologetic look. “No, I don’t.”

“Alright, then. I don’t want to push you,” you started uneasily, “but if something’s wrong, I promise I won’t judge—”

Steven was quick to reply, “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just… I’m afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”

An eyebrow inched closer towards your hairline. “Try me.”

Clearing his throat, Steven leaned closer to you before whispering in a near conspiratorial manner, “Alright. Here it goes. There’s a big weird bird monster thing following me around. That’s why you found me on the floor there just now—I saw it right in our hall. I know, I know, I sound like an absolute nutter, but I’ve been seeing it everywhere! Nobody else seems to be able to see it though, so I think I might just be loopy right now. I’m scared it’ll hurt me—or worse, someone else. Crikey, we shouldn’t even be going back up there! It might be waiting for us!”

After a considerable stretch of time, you chose your words carefully, reaching out to clasp his tense shoulder in a way you hoped came off as comforting. “Oh, Steven, honey, I’m gonna need you to take a couple deep breaths, okay? I’m… I’m sorry, that sounds terrifying. I don’t think you’re mental, I just think you need a bit of help, is all. If you want, you can come over to my place and tell me about it? I could fix you a nice cup of tea if you’d like, help you calm down a bit? I promise you there won’t be any, uhm, bird monsters up there.”

Steven felt a lump in his throat forming and tears burned behind his eyelids—why were you being so nice to him? Finally, finally, someone was willing to listen.

“That would be amazing, really,” he said, just about deflating with relief under your touch.

The elevator doors rattled open once you reached your level, and you stepped out, glancing backwards to make sure Steven was following after you. He still seemed somewhat disoriented, albeit far better than the state you found him in.

You pointedly stepped over the scattered bits of sand streaming from his doorway, making a mental note to ask him about that later on. Jamming your key into your door, you shouldered it open and beckoned for Steven to come in. He murmured a small thank you, pure, unadulterated gratitude glimmering within those warm wooden irises of his.

A hand carded through his unruly curls as you moved into the kitchen to boil some water for the tea, setting down your heavy bag and groceries onto the counter.

The silence was a comfort at first. It was finally broken once the water topped into a boil and you poured the steaming liquid into two separate mugs ready with tea satchels. You scooped in just the right amount of sugar for yourself before stirring in nearly double the amount into his mug—you recalled that he had quite the sweet tooth. Steven, too busy wallowing in his own self doubt, didn’t notice the copious amount of sugar you had thrown into his tea, twiddling with his fingers as he thought out his words. Deliberately slow, he began recounting all the times he’d seen this large bird-skull creature lurking about the corners of his mind.

You listened quietly. Your neighbor paused in his story to take a sip, humming in appreciation before continuing.

To be quite honest, you weren’t entirely sure what to do in a situation like this. You wanted to help, you really did, but how could you protect him from something that you were nearly sure didn’t exist? Would you need to call for professional help? Was it even your place to do so? After all, he was only your neighbor.

Though, you supposed he was more of a friend than anything now.

When Steven finished, there was a thin film of tears layered over his eyes. You couldn’t tell if it was because he’d just yawned from pure exhaustion or if it was because he was genuinely so distraught from his situation.

You didn’t know what to do.

Your tea, gone largely untouched, was pushed to the side as you shuffled closer to him, studying his vexed expression. This wasn’t the look of a dishonest man. He was telling you the truth—however outlandish it was.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, placing your hand over his on the kitchen counter. His pupils darted back and forth between your face and your now interlaced fingers. “I’m sorry, Steven, I really wish I could do something to help you. I don’t really… I don’t really know what I can do.”

“No, it’s alright, don’t apologize,” your neighbor replied. Despite his miserable circumstances, he still managed to summon a bright grin to his lips. “I would rather you didn’t get involved with it anyway—wouldn’t want you to get hurt because of me. Sorry for just barging in like this, by the way. It means a lot that you listened… not a lot of people do that nowadays.”

A pitiful feeling curled within your ribcage and you nodded. “Hey, I’m the one who invited you here—you didn’t barge in. And of course I listened. I’ll always listen to you, Steven.”

A chill tremored up his spine. Why was he suddenly getting so nervous around you? “Thank you, really. Is there any way I can repay you? Anything at all?”

You retracted your hand from his (much to Steven’s disappointment), to tap your finger against your bottom lip in thought. “I could use some help shelving those books in my bag while I unload my groceries. I mean, it’s not much, but it’d mean a lot.” It was clear that he was desperate to do something, anything in return, so you asked him more for his benefit than yours.

Eagerly, Steven bobbed his head a multitude of times before downing the rest of his tea in one fluid motion and moving towards your bag on the counter. He began fishing out the books one by one, studying the covers and sparing an impressed glance towards you.

“Philosophical physics?” he asked. “Looks like someone’s going to be having a busy weekend. You.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “It’s Tuesday, Steven.”

He appeared mortified for a second. “Really? Bollocks, I must’ve completely gone off the rocker now. I could’ve sworn it was Friday.” Flushing deeply, he flipped open one of the books and tilted his head curiously before reading out loud, “‘We take a handful of sand from the endless landscape of awareness around us and call that handful of sand our world.’ That’s bloody brilliant.”

You walked over to peer down at the book he was looking at before smiling widely. “Oh, yeah. Pirsig is one of my all-time favorites. Highly recommend you read that one. You can take it off my hands if you want—I have a ton of others to get through before I reread that one.”

The book snapped shut and he exhaled a gentle sigh. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course,” you said, voice soft and tender that it nearly shattered his very being.

“I think you’re the only good thing in my life right now,” he admitted, the tips of his ears growing hot with shame. “Besides Gus, my fish. He’s my little one-finned wonder. Other than you two, everything just feels like it’s falling apart.”

Pursing your lips together, you repeated your earlier motion, enveloping his palm with yours in delicate motions so as to not startle him—but this time you held your conjoined hands between the two of you, just above your chest, while peering into his eyes.

“Alright, since we’re being honest… I care a lot for you, Steven. I worry for you sometimes—probably more than a neighbor should. I think you’re lovely—and I’m sure Gus is great, too.”

The breathless, incredulous laugh he let out was born from utter relief and delight mixed into one. “You’re… you’re bloody amazing, you know that? You’re so kind, and smart, and—and just incredible, really.”

His sudden onslaught of compliments brought a warm flourish to your ribcage and you averted your gaze to fixate on the tiled floors of your kitchen. You were sure if you kept staring into Steven’s eyes, you’d spontaneously combust into flames.

Clearing his throat, Steven eyed the pile of books on the counter and you promptly let go of him so he could shuffle away and shelve them neatly. Once he was done, he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “Thank you for listening, again. I’d love to borrow that book, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all! I’d really like to hear your thoughts on it. If you ever need anything—literally anything at all—I’m right next door,” you said softly.

You weren’t entirely sure what came over you to act so rash. Bending forward just a bit, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, nose only barely grazing his cheekbone, before you squeezed his hand one last time. Steven could smell your faint lavender perfume, accompanied by the clean scent of your laundry detergent. Gods, he had the slightest taste of you and now he felt like a man starved. “I hope you know you’re not alone, Steven. Excluding the bird monsters, of course.”

Steven, shocked into abrupt silence at your kiss, stared at you with hearts for eyes, as if you’d roped down all the stars in the sky just for him. The dazed, slight part to his lips made an embarrassed grin form over your own. He was quite the romantic bloke, wasn’t he?

“I guess I’ll be going now. I think I’ll try giving the book a go today.” The two of you walked to your door and you hung by the doorway when he hesitated in the hall. He seemed to be struggling figuring out how to say goodbye. “Laters, gators,” he finally tacked on, in the most endearingly awkward way possible, and you snorted, shaking your head fondly. Oftentimes you’d hear him say the exact phrase through the plaster to his mum on the phone.

“In a while, crocodile,” you replied swiftly so as to not further fuel his embarrassment (earning yourself a wide, flustered grin from your neighbor), before saluting him with two fingers and shutting the door quietly. You rested your forehead against the cool wood, a sigh slipping from your lungs.

Your neighbor was delusional. Through the thin walls of your home, you could hear his strange, garbled noises of confusion accompanied with a surprising amount of crying at odd hours of the night. He spoke of nonsensical happenings and always appeared somewhat lost. Sometimes, he wasn’t even himself, which still puzzled you deeply.

But despite all this, you found yourself to be rather fond of him.

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gavvaiins · 2 years

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better mornings

summary: steven overheard smth at the museum and wants to test it.

pairing: steven Grant x gn!reader warnings: just fluff word count: 1k

a/n: after yesterday i was in dire need of some wholesome, cheesy fluff 🥲

„Good morning luv,“ you mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with a content but sleepy yawn.

“Good morning darling.” Steven smiled. Gently he brushed some of your hair out of the way, gracing your nose with a soft kiss afterwards. He just couldn’t help it. Falling asleep and waking up next to you was the best thing he had in his life. Even when he couldn’t fall asleep, watching your calm, sleeping form made him feel at ease.

Often, he had thought about how creepy his behaviour was. That you surely must think him a creep. A weirdo that watched you stir and mumble incoherent thoughts in your sleep. But you loved waking up with Steven by your side as well. And when he heard your soft mumbling and giggles and saw your soft smile he knew.

It filled his heart with this warm, fuzzy feeling that he thought no greater poet able to describe. These tiny moments made him happy. You gave him so much by simply existing and loving him. And you didn’t even know.

Your sleepy face bathed in the golden lights of the morning sun, the wonky smile you gave him it all made him feel at ease. Being with you made him forget so much. Outside his doors, in the museum were Donna and other people waiting for him, unable to ever remember his name correctly. But it all never mattered with you.

Thanks to you Steven was able to experience these serene moments day by day.

With you, he felt peace.

Steven kissed your cheek, next your eyebrow. You couldn’t help but giggle whenever his dry lips graced your skin. You were used to morning kisses; it was one of the ways Steven greets you and you loved them. Usually, he would kiss either your nose or cheek, never your lips. And like always in the morning his lips were a tad dry but nothing close to sandpaper.

“Hm, good morning to you too, Steven.” You chuckled when his lips pecked another part of your skin.

“How do I deserve –“ Hearing your surprise Steven’s kissing parade immediately came to an end. Saying his face was sheer panic would’ve been too much. But one could see some worry, and his gears turning and churning, in his brown eyes.

“I’m sorry.” It was nothing but a whisper, clearly more addressed to him than you. “I-I’ve went … too far.”

For once he had giving in and let his love-crazed emotions lead him. They lead him to kiss, cherish and worship your face … and overstepping boundaries. Surely, he must have. Again, Steven ruined everything by going too far. He scolded himself for kissing your ear. Planting kisses on nose, cheek and eyebrow must’ve been too much already.

Steven was sure he had fucked up.

Cleary he must’ve done something wrong.

Maybe he simply loved you too much? Did you think of him as suffocating?

You left the comfort of your – or rather his – pillow to gently cup his face with your hand, making him look at you. “Steven everything is okay.”

His brown eyes looked a bit more relaxed but were still filled with doubt, just not drowning in it anymore.

“It’s okay, Steven with a V.” Softly you kissed the tip of his nose. “I was just surprised. That’s all.”

“You didn’t hate it?” Steven asked softly and you shook your head.

“No, it’s just – you never kissed my ears.”

Maybe it was time to reveal it all. Well, it felt like the right time. In his mind Steven had imagined the whole situation to go differently: You would enjoy being showered in kisses and when you’d softly ask him or – no, just say his name he’d explain it to you with a whisper, that wouldn’t disrupt the situation. You’d sigh and love the story he’d told you because it was just that romantic.

“Well …” All sudden his mouth felt dry and his throat too. Why? His cheeks and ears were heating up as well! “Well … I-I was working at the shop, sorting the new jellies. – I don’t really know what gummy bears have to do with Egypt.”

“Steven.”

“Yeah? – Oh, right! S-sorry.” He fumbled a bit with his fingers. Why did he feel so nervous? It wasn’t like he was confessing a murder. It should’ve been romantic, really. “There were some girls talking – I know one shouldn’t snoop, but they said that moles show where you’ve been kissed in your past lives?”

Your gaze softened at his words. Your heart was practically melting away just now. How could it not? It was the sweetest and most romantic thing you’ve ever heard. Steven just had meant to cherish the places you’ve been kissed before, in your past-lives. Maybe by him, maybe by somebody else. But you had the feeling that it must’ve been Steven’s past. Who else would love your body like that?

“Oh, Steven,” you sighed and simply pulled him towards you, back down onto the bed to kiss him.

“T-that’s why I kissed –“ His mumbled words got swallowed by your lips and for once he didn’t mind getting interrupted. You were always allowed to. Especially when it all ended in a kiss.

He nipped at your lips when the kiss ended, wanting so much more. He couldn’t let his plan end at your ears and lips, knowing very well how many moles adorned your body.

“Can I –“ Steven had meant asking for permission to continue his mission of showering you and your body in love. But to his surprise he didn’t even need to ask.

“There are spots you used to kiss in the past.” You kissed him again, making him smile into it.

Steven never knew his heart could grow bigger with its love for you. He always thought it full to the rim. But hearing you utter the same thought: That you used to be lovers centuries ago, made his heart swell and ache with its love for you. With much care his lips touched your jaw, travelling up to kiss your face again when he noticed that he had forgotten a spot.

Between kisses he couldn’t help but look at you, bathed in sunlight, eyes full of love. If it was up to him, he’d love to turn this into a morning ritual, greeting you daily like this. With you no storm or rain shower, or even a shift with Donna, could ever disturb him. Steven smiled, wishing that you’d held and kiss him for eternity.

#marvel #moon knight #steven grant x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #moon knight scenario #imagine

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spectorgram · 2 years

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dates deferred

moon knight system x f! hero! reader summary: three times your dates with steven, marc, and jake are interrupted and one time it's not. notes: depictions of DID limited to what is portrayed in the show, talking about food/eating word count: 1.6k

You and Steven have been waiting months to get into this new restaurant that opened up a few blocks away from your apartment. It’s vegan and run by a Michelin-star chef, and you had to book a reservation months in advance.

When it’s finally your reservation, you’re both buzzing with excitement. As you slide your shoes on, Steven comes out of the bathroom, fiddling with the tie hanging limply around his neck. “Need help?” you ask, striding over to him.

“Please,” he sighs out, and you take hold of the tie, looping it into a Windsor knot like Jake showed you. Steven sighs, resting his forehead on yours. “I dunno how the other two do it so well.”

“More practice,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to his nose. “We’ll get the hang of it. Now, let’s go, I skipped my post-lunch snack for this.”

“The sacrifices you make,” Steven says and you roll your eyes playfully, finding your bag and slipping your hand into his.

As you walk down the street, you ask, “Have you looked at the menu? What do you think you’re getting?”

“I’m really eager to try the kohlrabi loin! I’ve heard that it’s absolutely fantastic.” You grin at his enthusiasm as he practically pulls you down the street, chattering about the restaurant.

You’re about a block away when there’s a loud crash across the street. Both of your heads whip around to see some other-dimensional monster tearing through the streets, people fleeing away from it. “Shit,” you say, and you and Steven share a glance before he summons his suit and you form your spear made of pure, tangible light.

Steven moves first, rushing for the monster and you sigh to yourself. Guess it’s another few months until you both can try that loin of kohlrabi.

You and Marc set up a nice picnic in Central Park, sitting on the Great Lawn and soaking in the October sun. It was your idea to take a vacation to New York City and Marc, with a little bit of coaxing, agreed that it would be a nice change of scenery.

You rest your head on Marc’s shoulder and he stacks his on yours, your bodies leaning comfortably together. It’s a perfect day, not too hot and not too cold. You glance up at Marc, who’s gazing down at you adoringly, and you laugh a little, kissing him swiftly. His mouth follows yours when you part and he says, “Tease.”

“Says you,” you say.

Marc just raises an eyebrow suggestively. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

You hum, “You’re right, I didn’t.” You lean in to kiss him again when you think you hear someone call your name. It must have been a trick of the wind and you press your mouth to his. Marc lets out a rumbling sigh, wrapping an arm around your waist and he begins guiding you onto his lap.

Then, you hear your name again, louder and more urgent from a different voice. Breaking from your boyfriend, you see the sources and you groan internally. Bucky and Sam walk up to you. They’re dressed like civilians, but the bulk under their clothes tells you that they probably have their suits or tactical gear underneath. “Did you just purposefully ignore us?” Sam huffs.

“You two have the worst timing, you know that?” You notice that they’re staring at Marc and him back at them, and you sigh, introducing them quickly.

“Not like evil has a schedule,” Bucky says. “We told you to be on standby all week.”

“‘Standby’?” Marc echoes and you glance guiltily at him. You had held out hope that whatever threat Bucky and Sam said they were dealing with would be, well, dealt with by them and you wouldn’t have to tell Marc the other reason you wanted to go to New York.

You tell Marc, “Bucky and Sam texted me last week saying that they might need my help with something, so they told me to come to New York and be on standby and…” You trail off.

Marc frowns at you, shoulders tense but after a few moments, he exhales and relaxes a little. He says, “Go on—”

“But, Marc, it’s our date—”

“One condition,” he continues. He looks at Sam and Bucky and says, “I’m coming too.”

“Wait a second, you—” Bucky starts but Marc cuts him off, “If she’s going, I’m going.”

Sam gives you a look and you say, “Marc can fight, I promise.”

“Alright,” Sam says. “Let’s get a move on then.”

It’s almost twelve a.m. when Jake trudges into your (now shared) apartment, wrapped in Khonshu’s armor and soaking the welcome mat with blood. You’re laying on the couch, watching trashy reality TV when he enters, and you sit up abruptly when you see him clutching at his left side.

Neither of you say anything as you guide Jake to the bathroom, sitting up down on the toilet seat and opening up your medicine cabinet. You take out the hydrogen peroxide and the roll of bandages you started buying in bulk when the boys moved in as Jake lets the suit melt away. He finally says, “Should’ve seen the other guy.”

It makes you smile a little, and you uncap the bottle, pouring some onto a large sterile pad. “Bet you gave them hell,” you say, pressing the pad to his side.

Jake hisses and, with a smirk full of clenched teeth, he adds, “And then some.” He winces again when you use another pad to pat the area dry and his expression sobers. He grabs your arm before you can start wrapping the bandages, saying, “I’m sorry I had to cancel, amor.”

“It’s okay,” you say gently, leaning over to peck the crown of his head, taking advantage of the lack of his cap. “If anyone gets it, it’s me.”

Jake shakes his head. “We haven’t gone out without getting interrupted in weeks,” he says. His eyes dart to the mirror on your medicine cabinet and he snorts, “Steven and Marc agree.”

You nod. “I’m getting fed up too, but our lives are… there’s always a risk of that.” You try to joke, “The price of saving the world,” but it just falls flat. You secure the bandage around Jake and say, “We’ll have to keep an eye on it.”

“I know the drill,” he says, standing and taking your hand in his, leading you out of the bathroom and to the front door. “Get your coat.”

“What?”

He scoops up the keys from their bowl and says, “Midnight drive, let’s go, bonita.”

You two climb into Jake’s car and as he starts the engine, you say, “Do you want me to drive?”

“Hell no,” he says. “You’ll get us killed.”

“I’m not that bad!”

He gives you a look and you scowl half-heartedly at him. He shakes his head and leans across the console, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You see the way he winces a little but you don’t say anything, and Jake pulls onto the road. He blasts Lionel Richie on the radio and you both sing along. You watch him and you can’t stop grinning, and you know he steals fond glances at you when he can.

Jake takes you to a spot just outside of the city and stops the car. You go to step out but Jake tells you to wait, getting out and rounding the car to your side. When your door opens and a hand helps you out, it’s Steven grinning brightly at you. “Lovely night we’re having,” he says and you laugh, throwing your arms around him, mindful of the wound on his side, and kiss him deeply. His hands find your hips and he draws you closer, breaking the kiss in favor of small, quick pecks to your lips.

When you finally stop, the two of you sit on the hood of the car and look up at the stars glowing in the sky. You two are shoulder to shoulder and you feel Steven’s arm move to point up. “There!” he says and your eyes go to where he’s pointing. “That’s Betelgeuse.” Then, his finger traces a path up before doubling back and sliding down. “It’s the Orion constellation.”

“It’s incredible,” you say, and Steven asks, “Do you know the story of Orion?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard it in a while. Tell me.” Steven weaves the tale of Orion the huntsman, blinded by the King of Chios for falling for his daughter, and eventually having his vision restored by the sun’s rays; of Orion whose death has many different version — killed by Artemis, killed by Apollo, killed by a scorpion that still pursues him through the stars. You soak up the information and the way Steven looks in the moonlight, silvery and heartbreakingly beautiful.

He gives you a smile, noting your awe-stricken stare. “What is it? Something on my face?”

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him. Then, you move closer, murmuring in his ear, “I love you.”

Steven flushes and a dopey smile forms, and he kisses you again. When you part, you see the way he straightens up and his smile moves from love-stricken to something a little more suggestive but soft nonetheless.

Marc brings your hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle reverently, leaving you tingling. When he finishes, he looks you in the eyes and says, “I love you too. We all love you so much.” He pulls you fully into his arms, chin rested on the top of your head, and you two gaze at the stars together.

There’s no otherworldly monster ripping through the street, no frantic shouts of your name, no victim of Khonshu’s vengeance, not right now. It’s just you and your boys and the stars, and you can’t think of anything more perfect than that.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #moon knight x you #moon knight imagine #moon knight fluff #moon knight scenario #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #oscar isaac #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #marvel #mcu #✶ NOVE WRITES

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age-of-moonknight · 7 months

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“A Systemic Approach (Part One),” Avengers Unlimited (Vol. 1/2022), Infinity Comic, #63.

Writer: Mat Groom; Penciler and Inker: Caio Majado; Colorist: Pete Pantazis; Letterer: Joe Sabino

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Avengers Unlimited #Avengers Unlimited Infinity Comic #Moon Knight comics #latest release #Moon Knight #Marc Spector #Captain America #Steve Rogers #thanks again Chaosherald for the tip off!#especially because this promises to offer something I so deeply love: Moon Knight and Cap interacting #I could (and have) go ON about how fascinated I am with the potential dynamic between Steve and Marc at the least #but what’s right here in the post is fun:#Steve is pretty darn close to the embodiment of the concept ‘ol’ faithful’#while Moon Knight is indeed a variable who is at ease changing with the phases of the moon #gosh I miss when they were on a team together #what I wouldn’t give for another shot at Secret Avengers #or just any scenario/universe where Moon Knight could be a bit of Cap’s left hand #his tertia optio if you will

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sanctum-of-ramshackle · 2 years

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💫100 Followers Celebration Special!!!✨

[Synopsis]: The timelines of the MC/Yuu variants receive an invitation to a party.

Gender Neutral MCs/Yuus

[(A/N)]: Thank you, everyone for following this blog. I thought putting this together would show how amazing you people are and more writing will come in the future.

[Hazbin Hotel x TWST Timeline]

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: *Reading the forbidden book*

Grim: MC/Yuu! You got mail!

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: Oh? Let me see. *Takes the neon orange envelope and slices it open with their claws* “Lord MC/Yuu, you are invited to a Multiverse party…”

[SAW x TWST]

Jigsaw!MC/Yuu: “…to celebrate all MC/Yuu variants from other timelines centered around Twisted Wonderland…” *Pulls down a lever to shock their victim in a death game*

[Poppy Playtime x TWST]

PP!MC/Yuu: *In the middle of designing a toy for Cheka* “…as we all know how crazy everyone’s lives changed since stepping into a world full of magic. What better way to relax is…”

[Moon Knight x TWST]

Moon Knight!MC/Yuu: *Choking a Jackal while reading the invitation during a fight* “…by meeting others and having to not deal with Crowley and his workload…” Okay, I’m in.

[The Great Seven x TWST]

MC/Yuu: *With the Seven Spirits over their shoulders* “…You can bring one to two members of friends from your orderly timeline. Party starts at 6 to 9 p.m. and a portal will open in the Mirror Chamber.” Who should I invite?

[The Mirror Chamber]

[6:00 p.m.]

Azul: Thank you for inviting me to this party. Are you certain you’re not being fooled by the invitation?

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: I am. I can sense some aura emitting from the envelope. It’s some craft I haven’t felt in decades.

[Then a portal opens leading to the gates of the Ramshackle Dorm. Lord MC/Yuu and Azul stepped through as it closes behind them. The gates open by themselves and the two guests start walking up the steps and now facing the front door.]

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: *Knocks at the door*

Azul: I don’t think we arrived early.

[Then the door opens itself to reveal one of the party’s hosts.]

Miyeon: Ah! Welcome to the party, Lord MC/Yuu. I’m Miyeon Choi and I go by She/They. Sometimes He/They when I change forms. Well, before you enter inside, I have to give these wrist bands to everyone just to let others know which people belongs to a specific variant. *Passes bright red wrist bands to Static Demon!MC/Yuu and Azul*

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: *Wears their band*

Azul: *Also puts on his band*

[Static Demon!MC/Yuu and Azul then enter inside the building to see the other party guests.]

Moon Knight!MC/Yuu: *Shows off their armor*

PP!MC/Yuu: Ooh! You’re so cool! Like an action figure with awesome features.

Moon Knight!MC/Yuu: You think so? Well, I was never told so.

PP!MC/Yuu: Of course! I never met an actual superhero. I wanna create a toy after you!

Moon Knight!MC/Yuu: Oh, that’s such an honor.

G.S.!MC/Yuu: So you’re an engineer?

Jigsaw!MC/Yuu: Back home, I was studying to become one before arriving to my Twisted Wonderland. I haven’t forgot my work and plan to continue.

Hades: Kid, I have a bad feeling for this one.

G.S.!MC/Yuu: *Ignoring the spirit* That sounds ambitious of you.

Jigsaw!MC/Yuu: Yes. Oh, I think my plus one wondered off somewhere. I must go and fetch them before trouble happens.

G.S.!MC/Yuu: Okay! It’s nice talking to you.

Jigsaw!MC/Yuu: *Walks off*

G.S.!MC/Yuu: Bad feeling? What are you talking about?

Hades: That variant you talked to. I sense red flags like you youngsters would say.

G.S.!MC/Yuu: …Please don’t say youngsters again. Plus Malleus is with us. He’ll protect us.

Malleus: *Just happy to be invited*

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: So you’re a magic user?

Miyeon: Yeah, I am. Been studying and practicing Eldritch Magic for years.

OOC: They’re from a world where fighting against notorious villains and other alien species attempting to take over Earth.

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: *Feeling Miyeon’s Durumagi* This is nice. Where did you get this?

Miyeon: Oh. Junior is a little sensitive. They don’t like being touched-

Junior the sentient Durumagi: *Smacks Static Demon!MC/Yuu’s hand away*

Miyeon: *Pulls back the sleeve* Oh, sorry!

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: Now, that’s okay. My shadow tends to have that habit when a stranger touches me. They barely walk afterwards.

[The party continued with laughter and chats happily flowing through the atmosphere. Then a knock was heard.]

Miyeon: I got it! *Opens the front door* Well…You finally came…

[(A/N): Well, that ended shortly and unexpectedly. To put this simply, there’s an MC/Yuu from another world who works for people that are top secret that the government doesn’t know about.]

💫Reblogs helps creators✨

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