#steven grant is so sweet

[ninebluehearts]

hi beautiful 😽😽😽.

can I request some steven x reader???. Where Steven is very insecure and generally doesnt feel like he deserves reader and they comfort him. pleasee and thank you 😽

Hello darling! Of course you can! Sorry it took me so long to write this! I'm currently reconstructing my room and haven't had a lot of time to sit and write a lot 💕

This had to have been the fourth worst day ever for Steven Grant. Sure, he got his job back at the museum, but at what cost? Donna still walked all over him, JB still calls him "Scotty," and not to mention the Karen Moms he has to deal with every hour.. And then there was you.

The rest of the world may make him feel worthless, but you gave him a purpose. You made him feel seen. He honestly felt like he didn't deserve you. Especially when he came home and found you sitting on the couch in his t-shirt, reading one of his favorite books in the spotless flat.

"Hey baby!" You draped your bookmark along the inside of the book then set it on the coffee table, making your way over to Steven. But as you approached him, you could actually see the tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over. "Darling? What's wrong?"

Steven cleared his throat, glancing around the flat. "You cleaned?"

"Yeah? Is that okay?" You cupped his cheek, pressing your body against his.

"I- Why?"

"I figured it would be a nice surprise. Last night you were talking about how stressed you were about the mess, so I decided to clean up today. What's wrong?"

The tears in his eyes finally fell, slowly rolling along his cheeks. You had listened to him. Actually listened to him. And you had cared enough to do something about it. Gods, he loved you so much it hurt. He really didn't deserve you.

Steven suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug, hiding his face in between your neck and shoulder. "Bloody hell, I love you so much.. I really don't deserve you."

"What? Steven, of course you deserve me. Silly boy, it's me who doesn't deserve you." You pressed a kiss to the side of his head, tightening your grip around him.

Steven shook his head, taking a deep breath as he pulled back just enough to look at you. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby. Would you like to sit on the couch and watch a movie with me for awhile?" You asked as you leaned up and kissed his cheek, grinning at the light shade of pink that crept onto his cheeks.

Steven just smiled at you. "I'd love that, darling."

Taglist: @hot-mess-express1

[ilovelosermen69]

Steven would talk about his day right in the middle of sex

[enbydindjarin]

My sleepy babies🥰

[lovestony16]

[esha-isboogara]

sometimes i’m scrolling through tumblr and i’ll see steven grant and i’m just like

💘💘💘💘🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🎀🎀🎀🎀😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘stevennnnnn😘😘😸😸😸😻😻😻😻💛💛💛💘💘💘💘💕❣️💖💓💓🥰🥰😘💘💓💓💓💖💖💖😍😍😍😘😘😘🤭🤭🤭🤭🫶🏼

then im back to doom scrolling

[tiptapricot]

I love the idea of the moon boys teaching each other things 🥺

Could you write one where Steven teaches Marc how to braid Layla’s hair? I tried to rack my brain for something Steven would know that Marc wouldn’t and that’s all I could come up with. Something else traditionally feminine would do too though ❤️

Marc loves Layla’s hair. He loves the feel of it, the way her curls twist through his fingers, soft against his skin, and make his nerves tingle. He loves the smell of it, of her, warm and gentle and tinged with coconut shampoo and amber. She grounds him, she completes him, and something about fiddling with her hair is just… nice. It gives him something to fidget with, something to calm his mind when it’s running too fast.

It’s embarrassing how often his hands find themselves tugging at it absentmindedly (gently always gently, he could never hurt her), but she doesn’t seem to mind. Instead she’ll push into his touch, curl closer, twist over to kiss him. Sometimes she even lets him brush it, or scrub soap into her scalp with slow, easy movements as her muscles unwind after a hard day.

“You can braid it, if you want,” she says one night when they’re curled up on the couch in Steven’s apartment, the TV turned low and the room dim. Marc’s fingers pause where they were playing with a stray curl by her ear, his brows furrowing.

He glances down at her, and an image runs through his mind of pulling her hair from her neck like some delicate treasure and weaving it through his fingers, dark and soft. He shivers. But…

“Can’t,” he says. “Dunno how.” It’s a simple admission, and yet somehow saying it out loud brings a mortifying warmth to his cheeks. Is he supposed to know? It never came up, but if she wants him to he could try. Does she want him to try?

Layla tips her head back to look at him, smiling. “It’s fine, Marc.” She scoots back further against his chest, turning over so her face is pressed into the crook of his neck. “Maybe I can teach you sometime.”

Marc nods, distracted, nuzzling into the crown of her head to press a kiss there. “Yeah, I’d like that baby.” He’d like it so much. He doesn’t deserve her.

Layla laughs quietly, little puffs of hot air hitting his collarbone, before they settle back into silence. Marc starts carding his fingers through her curls again, rhythmic, relaxing, and Layla hums, her heartbeat slowing against his ribs. Eventually her breaths smooth into the even lull of sleep, and Marc pulls her a little closer, tracing the shape of her skull each time his hand slides down.

These might be some of favorite moments, when he can just be close to her. He knows what it’s like not to have them now, not to have her, and he’ll never take them for granted again.

Marc’s never had a great track record with words (sometimes they’re just too hard, or his voice doesn’t work, or he finds he doesn’t have one at all), but he can always speak through actions. That’s what he likes so much about these moments. Layla will allow him into her space, like he was always meant to be there even if he wasn’t, even if he did so much to hurt her, and Marc will kiss her wrists or press against her back and hope she knows that it means everything.

There’s a certain shape to the corners of her eyes up close when she smiles, warmed with freckles and pinching tight with happy creases, and it always takes Marc’s breath away. Layla has so much to admire. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop.

‘Marc?’ Steven’s voice rises quietly in their mind, like he’s trying not to intrude. He’s been there most of the evening, though, hovering close to the front.

“Mm…” Marc hums aloud. ‘What’s up?’

‘I could help, if you want. With the braiding. I’m pretty good myself.’

Marc pauses, thumb rubbing against Layla’s temple. ‘Yeah? Where’d you learn that? Unless I’m missing way more shit than I thought we didn’t go to a lot of summer camps.’

It’s lighthearted, and Steven laughs gently. Marc gets the impression of him shaking his head.

‘No, nothing like that. I helped Dad prepare for Shabbat every week, that’s all. We did it together ‘cause Mum was always… tired…’ He trails off for a moment, going quiet. A small realization of sadness and guilt washes through Marc for a moment, though he’s not sure if it’s coming from him or Steven. Steven clears his throat harshly. ‘Sorry,’ he continues. ‘Sorry, sorry, my point was, I got wicked good at braiding challah, and while it’s not quite the same with the, like… extra strand bits and all that, when Dad was teaching me I started out a real knob at it, so we just did it the easy way for a bit, with just three bits to braid instead of six and—sorry I’m rambling aren’t I?’

Marc huffs, smiling. ‘You’re fine, Steven.’

‘Well what I meant to say is even if we didn’t make it the simple way much, I have a good handle on this type of thing so I can… I can teach you, if you’d like. If that would help.’

The silence that follows carries expectation. Marc worries his nail over the hairs laying on his fingers, focusing on the way he can feel the bumps of each little piece. He wants to say yes. It would be easier to say yes if he was someone else, but he’s not. He’s never been good at easy.

Marc puffs out a little breath and glances up at the ceiling. His hands start moving over Layla’s head again, threading through the locks like a comb.

He should say yes. That’s all he needs to say, and Steven would help. He just needs to say yes.

He fists a small chunk of Layla’s hair, nervous and tight, his other hand coming up to get its own handful. He hopes she doesn’t wake up.

He’s not jealous, he’s not. He knows there was a reason he wasn’t there for the shit Steven was, because that was the whole point of how they worked, some of them weren’t meant to be certain places. But that doesn’t stop a little part of him from aching a bit. He hasn’t had challah in… too long. It’s been too long.

His hands loosen on the two fistfuls, pulling them away from Layla’s head delicately and laying them against her back. Marc looks at them, at the shape of his knuckles, the little scars on the back of his hand. Then they move of their own volition to lay one of the sections of hair over the center piece, before doing the same with the one from the other side.

Oh…

Marc watches in silence as Steven braids Layla’s hair, their elbow scooting up the back of the couch to get a better angle. It’s quiet in the flat. The movement is mesmerizing.

When Steven gets to the end, their hands pull back, hovering.

‘Sorry do you…? Do you have a hair tie on you?’ he asks.

Marc shakes his head, eyes fixed on the messy braid trailing down Layla’s back. It’s pretty on her. It’s really pretty. He reaches out to touch it, and it’s him moving this time, the pads of his fingers tracing over it quietly. She shifts a bit in her sleep, the braid lolling off to one side.

‘Hmm… it won’t stay in without a tie. Maybe we can redo it again later?’ Steven offers.

Marc thinks of Layla sitting in his lap, leaning forward, of a bright string of hair ties layered down his arm as he weaves each piece over, and over, and over… He thinks of her laughing.

“Yeah…” his voice is barely a whisper when he says it, his fingers sliding down in slow motion to push through the braid until it’s undone beneath his palm. He arranges Layla’s hair back over her shoulders carefully, smoothing it out, making it look natural, and then he leans back, arm draped over her delicately. Later… again… Maybe I can teach you sometime. “That sounds good.”

(Also now on ao3!)

[marmie-noir]

Steven Grant HC

Ok, so like a lot of people write Steven as this shy, stuttering, absolute mess of a puppy dog and I love that. I think that is right. But can I raise you that version of Steven until he gets in specific situations? Like once he's been with his partner for awhile he loosens up, doesn't stutter when you slide into his lap as he reads in his favorite chair, slipping his glasses from his face to kiss him like he deserves because he is just so sweet and how could you not? Maybe even catches your belt loop as you try to slip by to get some more tea, pulls YOU down instead because he wants to cuddle or read some poetry that reminded him of you.

Like when you two finally make it to the bedroom after a fantastic date and he just loses himself with you. Confidence doesn't even cross his mind because he is so drunk on your taste, your touch, who has time to be shy when your hips feel so good under his hands and your flavor is coating his tongue? I feel like he pins you to the bed and doesn't even realize it and you sure as hell aren't going to stop him.

He will always be a bit timid, a bit shy, even at times a little bit melancholy. But under all that is a very complex man who wants to be loved and has so much love to give and when he gets that he would bloom like a flower in the palm of your hand, seeking the sunshine of your smiles.

[amysosamybeloved]

am i the only one who's kinda uncomfortable at just how much steven gets infantillized in the mk fandom like yeah he's very much out of his depth eighty percent of the time and he's awkward and shy and struggles to form connections but idk he's still an adult man and there's something kinda off about how people just treat him like he's a helpless little kid when he's repeatedly shown to be able to handle situations and is actually capable of holding his ground idk how to explain it it's just weird about how there's a certain sect of characters in media who are massively infantillized and for some reason as a result of that every other character who even looks at them wrong is not given a break by the fandom

[nothidd3n]

i am a slut for men who are pathetic, the men who are Just Some Guy. i love twirling my hair when i see the Some Guy character, the sweet pathetic mfs

[chugginandsippinartist]

Steven/Marc thought of the day:

Marc is out of the country helping with Layla with a mission and Steven misses him terribly. They have their phone calls/FaceTime chats but Steven’s heart still aches. Steven has a day off from work and decides he wants to get Marc something nice when he comes back home! He takes the bus to a mall and looks around to find a present when he comes across…a Victoria’s Secret shop 😏😏😏

Even tho his face is a bit more rounder, his stomach not having abs and has love handles Steven is still self conscious about his body (Marc tells him everyday he is beautiful and loves how soft he is and kisses all over his body). He still wants to do something nice and show Marc he appreciates him so much. With a deep breathe he steadily walks in the store.

Cue to Steven on the bus back home clutching to his chest a bag of newly acquired lingerie set (the lady at the shop was quite helpful even with his stuttering and him blushing profusely saying it’s a gift for his partner and the clerk just gave a knowing smile and helped picked out a simple selection). Soon as he opens the door to the flat he phone starts to vibrate and sees it’s Marc. He tells Steven he just landed and says he’ll be home soon!

Steven is so excited and soon as he ended the call he hastily hides his gift in the bathroom and eagerly waits for Marc. About an hour later he hears the keys jingle and Marc calls out, “I’m home”! Steven runs up and they both hug and kiss each other enthusiastically.

“Missed you so much baby. Got you some gifts while I had some downtime on the mission”! Marc takes Steven’s hand and leads him to sit on their bed as he rummages through his duffel bag for his gifts. Marc presents Steven with a new book and a box of decedent chocolates. Steven gets a bit teary-eyed of his thoughtful presents and kisses him but was interrupted by Marc’s yawning.

“Long flight love”? Steven gently carding through his hair and Marc closes his eyes a bit, “Yeah sorry baby soon as the mission was done wanted to get home to you soon as possible. But had to do a layover and didn’t get much sleep either”.

“Oh Marc darling you should of said something sooner! Maybe I should wait to show you my gift…” Marc immediately perks up, “you got me a gift sweetheart? I wanna see”! His energy seemed to go up a lil but still tried to hold back another tired yawn.

“Are you sure? It is rather late and you can’t stop yawning…” Marc profusely shakes his head and gives him such a warm smile, “I really REALLY want to see your gift pretty please my sweet”? Steven can’t help but chuckle and return that warm smile.

“Alright my love you twisted my arm. Just wait a bit for me”? Steven gives Marc a peck on the lips as he gets up from the bed and heads to the bathroom. Soon as Steven closes the door he takes a deep breathe and gets the bag out and starts getting out the lingerie set. He’s watched some videos of how to put on the items and tries to be a bit speedy about knowing Marc was so tired. After everything is put on he looked at himself briefly in the mirror to check if everything is in order. Once he deems everything looks good (even he admits he quite looks good doing another quick once over) he walks out the bathroom.

He walks to where Marc is waiting for him and finds him….asleep on the bed sitting up. Steven huffs a laugh and can’t blame him honestly and as he tries to get Marc’s jacket off and into the covers he jolts back awake and soon as blinks away the tiredness from his eyes he gets a good look at Steven and just stares. Steven starts to get antsy with Marc’s stare and before he knows it he yelps in surprise as Marc’s arms wrap around his stomach and buries his face in Steven’s lacy chest,

“M-Marc! Oh goodness sorry I woke you up but really you should get more sleep this can wa—” Marc only tightens his grip and looks up smiling all dopey at Steven, “baby oh my god this is best present I could ask for you are so god damn beautiful please let me enjoy this please”?

Well…how could Steven refuse that?

(Ughhhhh wanted to write more but really tired 🥱 at least ya’ll get the gist of what I’m getting at)

[suppotato123]

Imagine Marc taking a College class, and Steven just taking lecture notes for Marc while he’s fronting and just leaving sweet little messages for him in the margins like, “Hey, Bruv, don’t forget to eat lunch today! Love ya! :) ~Steven”.

[faeriecap]

HELLO??? THE WAY THAT STEVEN AND LAYLA LOOK AT EACH OTHER IN THE SAND??? straight ship for gay people

[a-rare-sight]

I'd give anything to kiss his sweet face :(

[tiptapricot]

Scene req from @guss-other-fin for a trans!MK system scenario in which Marc prefers to be clean shaven because he hates the feeling of facial hair, so Steven doesn’t realize he can grow it until after they’re on more even terms with each other. Marc then teaches Steven how to shave, and it’s just an overall sweet bonding moment with lots of banter, and Steven nicking himself because he couldn’t stop smiling. Also now on ao3!

———

Steven stares at himself in the mirror, brows furrowed intensely, as his fingers poke and prod at his chin and cheeks. The skin is darker than usual and it’s… rough…

A tickle of amusement brushes against his consciousness.

“Marc?” he asks tentatively at the new presence, turning his head to get a better look at the sides of his jaw.

‘What’s up bud?’ Marc’s voice light, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“What’s…” Steven’s mouth twists, his hand moving to gesture oddly at their reflection. “What’s all this here?”

Marc huffs, and Steven swears he can almost feel the puff of air against his ear. ‘That’s facial hair Steven, I forgot to shave.’

Steven’s brows shoot up. “Really?” His fingers once again run over the light stubble dusting his chin, the texture making his skin tingle. But it could almost be a nice feeling now that he thinks about it. Facial hair! “I didn’t think we could grow this stuff,” he says, a bit in awe, “like there was some freak backwards effect of hormones that gave us like… male patterned baldness on our face or something.”

Marc laughs, loud, and Steven glares at his reflection in annoyance. Marc isn’t exactly there, but he knows he’ll see it anyway.

“Well what was I supposed to think when even my bloody peach fuzz disappeared?” he asks incredulously.

Marc’s laughter peters out at that, and Steven feels him twist and shrink a bit, and—oh. He’s embarrassed. He’s bloody embarrassed.

‘I don’t… I don’t like the feel of it,’ he admits. ‘When it started growin’ in I tried to have something with it cause y’know… it was nice to see, kinda, but it just…’ Steven gets a flash of sensation—scratchy hair running over their wrists and poking at their lips—and shivers. ‘Yeah I just… it wasn’t my thing. I usually just stay clean shaven when I can.’

Steven makes a noncommittal hum in response, taking one more second to poke at his stubble, before pushing back from the mirror to look matter of factly at their sink. When he sees nothing but their toothbrush, he crouches down to check one of the little storage cabinets.

‘What are you lookin’ for now Steven?’ Marc asks, his voice light and fond, giving the impression that he’s leaning back with his arms crossed to watch.

“Well I do assume you have a razor,” Steven says, rifling through the mess that’s accumulated, “unless Khonshu was such a stuck up twit that you had to use that little moon staff of his instead or something. That thing did look quite sharp didn’t it?” He pulls out a small box of ibuprofen well past its expiration date and grimaces at it, making a mental note to sort through his storage at some point.

Marc laughs again, the twinge of awkwardness from before gone, and Steven feels a force twitch his hand down to the bottom shelf. ‘Yeah, yeah, I have a razor.’

Taking the hint, Steven pushes aside a few stray items before pulling out a simple, black hand razor from the back. It’s small. Utilitarian. Definitely Marc’s.

‘There should be gel and aftershave in there too.’

Steven hums again, grabbing the bottles he assumes Marc means before straightening up.

“Ok,” he says, staring at the mirror with determination, “how’s this whole thing work then?”

He gets the impression of Marc smiling, before he starts walking him through it, not even questioning Steven’s desire to do it himself.

His directions are easy, and Steven does just as he says, washing their face, before lathering up with the gel and enjoying the smooth feel of it under his fingers. When he’s done, he lets it sit as he washes off his hands, making sure to run the razor under the water as well after a very… noncommittal answer from Marc about its cleaning history.

‘Now, go slow, and don’t push too hard. You go in the direction of the hair, and don’t reverse or anything, just glide it over.’

Steven makes a little noise of acknowledgment in his throat but stays completely still otherwise, barely twitching the razor over his cheek.

‘Here, like this.’ He feels Marc take control of his hand, moving it at an easy pace over the skin. The sudden visual image of him guiding Steven to shave like he’d guide someone to tie a tie nearly makes him burst out laughing, but he catches himself.

‘There, keep going like that,’ Marc says, returning control to Steven.

It’s easier after that, and Steven makes it most of the way down one side of his face before Marc says something else.

‘Ah yeah, and around your mouth and stuff you can puff out your cheeks for an easier shave.’

It makes sense, it really does, but when Steven does it in the mirror he suddenly imagines Marc making the same face, and it’s just too bloody much.

He does laugh this time, lips sputtering and twitching into a smile, and their hand flinches away from their face.

‘Woah woah hey there, that’s how you hurt yourself.’

Steven rolls his eyes and goes back in to keep shaving, jerking control of the hand back from Marc. “I’m not the one who has to think about you doing this all the time you know,” he says very carefully. “Do you know how bonkers we look when we do that?”

‘You look fine Steven. You’re doing great.’ And Marc’s voice is just… fond when he says it. Deeply fond, and it makes Steven’s chest do something all fluttery.

He can’t help but think about Marc learning this himself, then, or maybe having someone he trusted teach him like he’s doing for Steven now. It’s so familiar to him but so alien to Steven, and yet they still get to share this.

This. This body.

It’s a real bang up thing overall. He knows they have a lot of scars, some recent, some older, and he knows a lot are from Marc, from things less than wonderful and less than kind, but he also knows they share the joy here too. The joy in the two scars on their chest, in the deep tambre of their voice, in… shaving. In having to shave because they have facial hair. Gods he still can’t wholly believe that. And it’s not all been aces, yeah, but they have this, and he has this with Marc, and so maybe it really isn’t all bad after all.

Now Steven does smile at that, absentmindedly, just a bit too wide and a bit too weighty, and the blade nicks his skin. He hisses, cringing, and pulls the razor back to clutch at the little welt just below his nose.

“Ah, bollocks.”

‘Told you to be careful.’

“Oh shut up you,” Steven says breathlessly, grabbing a wad of tissue to blot at it for a moment. “I was thinking mushy thoughts, you can’t blame me.”

‘Oh yeah? What about?’ Marc asks, and the affection is still there, a comfortable weight in Steven’s chest.

“Oh you know,” he says, returning to the space around his mouth just a touch more carefully, “just about us, the body, all this.” He leans back to look at his work so far, before starting on the other cheek. “I still can’t believe you hid this from me.”

Marc chuckles. ‘Well clearly you wouldn’t have done it right if I had.’

“Oh shut up.” Steven flicks a little water at the mirror but there’s no venom in it, and Marc laughs louder this time. It’s a warm, easy sound that he rarely makes, and it catches Steven so off guard he has to pause for a moment to reign in his own wild grin, bracing against the sink and smiling at the floor like an idiot.

It’s nearly an hour before they even touch the aftershave, but Steven doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.

[some-things-about-life]

Me after watching ep 1 of Moon Knight: literally WHO is out here thirsting over this sleep deprived man

Me 3 episodes in: oh I get it now

[phoenixwwitch]

marc “i can’t let steven die alone” spector, marc “i couldn’t protect you so ill die with you” spector, marc “you didn’t abandon me there’s no way in hell i’ll abandon you” spector, mARC “YOU ARE THE ONLY REAL SUPERPOWER I EVER HAD” SPECTOR