#steven grant x f!reader

[pimosworld]

Bad days

Pairing- Steven grant x f!reader, hints of Marc and Jake x f!reader.

Summary- You help Steven relax and cure his bad day.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, porn with a little plot, angst, fluff, Steven being unsure at first, oral m receiving, cum eating, slight sub Steven,Dom reader, Marc and Jake being teases and helpful because it’s them.

WK-2.4k

A/N- Making Steven feel good is like candy to me so I hope you enjoy this.

Not beta read

[Moon Knight Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

You set the groceries down to knock on the door to Stevens flat. You don’t hear any movement on the other side of the door for a few brief moments. You know Steven wasn’t always punctual but he never missed an opportunity for you to cook him dinner. 

It was a little nerve wracking at first taking over his job in the gift shop. He was promoted to tour guide at the museum but Donna insisted he train his replacement. 

Marc was annoyed in the beginning. How hard could it be to work in a gift shop? He knew Steven had been waiting for so long to be a tour guide and told him in so many words to tell Donna to shove off. Until you walked in.

  For once in his life Steven didn’t bumble his way through an introduction. You loved the way he cared so deeply for the regular patrons and cataloged all the items  in the gift shop. 

  He gave you a taweret plushie on your last day of training and couldn’t contain his excitement when you wrapped your arms around him as a thank you. 

  Ask her now

  It wasn’t often Jake made an appearance, but since you’ve come into the picture he was making himself more and more known. 

  He’s right, ask her

  It was a problem for Steven when Marc and Jake were getting along. He has yet to make his condition known to you, but he’s noticed you smirking when he’s talking out loud or having a stern conversation with his reflection in the glass of the gift shop. 

  “I was wondering if maybe…you’d like to go to dinner with me sometime?” 

  You said yes before he could even get the words out. 

  That was a few months ago. 

  ****

  Steven noticed you at the end of the hallway as the doors to the lift opened. 

  I told you to just give her a key hermano 

  Steven didn’t want to just hand you a key like Marc or Jake would. He wanted it to be special…he already had it made, he just needed an opportunity to present it to you. He’s been so busy with his promotion he’s barely had time for you. 

  You offered to cook him dinner and he couldn’t even bother to be on time for that. 

  He looks so tired, even from where you’re standing. You can tell he’s had a rough day and you’re determined to make it better. It’s not often the boys let you spoil them, always so concerned with your needs. 

  Steven had needs too…he just needed a gentle reminder. 

  ****

  “I’m sorry I’m so late, Love.” He pecks your lips as he drops some scrolls to the ground to fish out his keys. 

  “It’s okay Steven, I haven't been waiting long.” You bend over to pick up the groceries as he drops his keys. 

  “Oh bollocks, can’t even open my own door.” You try to grab his shoulder as he picks them up from the floor. He mutters something under his breath about being clumsy and your certain Marc or Jake aren’t helping. 

  “Steven, honey.” You wrap your arms around him as you slowly grab the keys. “Let me help you.” 

  Steven wants to protest but your hands are like magic covering his. He has to pinch himself everyday to remind himself he’s not dreaming, when it comes to you. Marc and Jake may give him a hard time but he never lets them forget that you were interested in him first. 

  He sighs into your touch as you slowly open the door. “You’re too good to me, you know that.” He scoops the groceries in one arm and the scrolls in the other. 

  “There’s no such thing as too good.” Your lips curve into a smile before you lean in and kiss him and he nearly drops everything in his arms. 

  “Why don’t you set that stuff down and get comfortable.” 

  He goes to protest but you place your finger on his lips. “Go wash off this awful day, change into something comfortable and relax.” You kiss him again a little deeper and longer, you can feel him sigh into it as you start to pull away. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

  I would do what she says if I were you. 

  He pinches himself before he heads off to the bathroom.

  ****

  Steven notes the delicious smell wafting through the flat as he pulls on his favorite jumper and sweatpants. Although he knows whenever he comments on how good it smells you always tell him it’s just garlic and onions. 

  You’re a picture of domestic perfection as you finish putting something in the oven. You wipe your hands on the small towel as you look up and smile at him. 

  His feet are rooted to the spot in the living room as you make your way towards him,you look like you want to devour more than just the food. The urge to look over his shoulder and make sure he’s the one you’re looking at is strong. 

  Your soft hand gently grabs his wrist as you pull him toward the couch. Perhaps Marc or Jake took control of his legs because he certainly doesn’t remember how he swiftly ended up seated with you on your knees in front of him. 

  The words are leaving your mouth but he can’t hear anything over the buzzing in his ears as you rub your hands up and down his legs. 

  “What did you say love?” You smirk and lean up, pulling his face to yours as your soft lips meet his. He could stay like this, just kissing you as he melts into the couch. The stress of the day pouring off him like the rain outside. 

  “I said…did you have a bad day?” You trail kisses along his jaw and nip at his earlobe as you wait for his answer. 

  “Yes.” It comes out as a confession, like he’s ashamed to admit that he has bad days doing his dream job.

  Your warm hands roam under his sweater along his chest and trail down as you hook your fingers in his waistband. His breathing is coming in too fast and he tries to calm himself down as your body brushes against the obvious tent in his sweats.

  “Do you want me to make it better?” It’s a whisper in his ear that he hears loud and clear as your hands wait for permission.

  Say yes Steven

Say yes Steven

  It must’ve been too long, because his head mates urge him to answer you before you change your mind. As if you ever would. 

  “Yes…please.” You chuckle at his rushed out response as if you can read his mind and know exactly what they’re saying. 

  It drives him a little bit wild that you’re giving him this attention. He was always a little more reserved than Marc and not as bold as Jake. He’s never been treated like this. The sole purpose of someone’s desires. 

  You tug a little on his pants and bite your lip. He lifts his hips to help you as you pull them down just enough to pool at his feet. He’s achingly hard as your hand reaches out to pump him a few times. 

  He bites down on his tongue to keep from coming at the first touch of you. It’s only been a few days and he’s already so desperate for anything you’ll give him. 

  The genuine look of enjoyment on your face as you stare at it like it’s an appetizer to a four course meal is something he’ll have to frame in his mind. 

  The feel of your hand is quickly replaced with your mouth as you slide down the length of him, your plush lips wrapped around his cock as you hum in approval. Finally provided the relief you both wanted. 

  He chokes back a moan as your tongue slides back up, slowly twirling around the tip. A drop of precum trails down the side and you tilt your head licking it up like an ice cream cone. Not wanting to waste a drop. 

  Fuck

  Your hands are on his legs again as you rub them in time with your head as you bob up and down, moaning around his cock sending chills up his spine. 

  You loved watching Steven let go. It was exhilarating that you could make someone come undone. The  dark look in his eyes is almost similar to Marc’s but you know by the noises coming from him and the way his hands grip the couch it’s your sweet Steven. 

  Put your hand on the back of her head

  “What?” He rasps out above you. 

  You come off with a pop and take in his unruly curls as the sweat forms on his furrowed brow. 

  “I didn’t say anything honey.” He stares blankly at you for a moment before he realizes he must’ve spoke out loud. 

  Idiota

  “Sorry love, you can keep going…if you want to—

  His rambling is cut short as you take him into your mouth again, not wasting a moment as your lips slide all the way down his cock. Your nose brushes the curls at the base and you gag a little. 

  “Sorry love…” Steven begins to apologize but you don’t seem to be stopping. 

  Listen to me and don’t say anything 

  Perhaps he should just listen to Marc, he’s never…well maybe not never, but he’s rarely led him astray. 

  Put your hand on the back of her head and Gently…go with her movements. 

  You glance up at Steven who nods his head as he places his hand on the back of yours. He’s looking at you with those puppy dog eyes like he’s asking for permission to do what you’ve been wanting this whole time. Enjoy it. 

  You hollow out your cheeks and pull him in deeper as he audibly moans a little louder. His nails scratch lightly at your scalp as he pushes you down a little further. His bold movements turn you on even more than you were before. You breathe through your nose and push past the burning in your lungs to stay on the edge of his pleasure for a little longer. 

  “You’re perfect, you know that?” He mostly says it to himself as you whine your response because you can't really answer at the moment. Not verbally at least. 

  You know you probably look a mess as your mascara runs down your cheeks and the drool pools outside your mouth as he takes what he wants. Except he’s looking at you like you hung the moon as his free hand swipes a stray tear from the corner of your eye. 

  It feels like he’s in the duwat again the way he’s floating between this reality and the next. He struggles to keep his eyes on you as he throws his head back against the couch finally relinquishing all control he had over his emotions. 

  The sounds of your mouth and the muttering of praises are all he can focus on as the familiar feeling starts to creep up his back and infiltrate his brain. 

  You can feel his legs tense beneath your hands as the grip in your hair tightens instinctually. 

  “I’m…im close love, you don’t have to.” 

  Cállate y déjale

  “It’s okay Steven, you can let go.” You half pant out as you resume before he can protest. 

  You place your hand on top of his and urge him on as he curses under his breath. His hips stutter slightly as he feels himself let go, spilling hot ropes of come into your mouth. You don’t let up as you swallow every drop until he’s boneless beneath you. His cock twitches slightly as you come off, slowly catching your breath. His hand drops to the couch with a thud as you raise up next to him and brush his curls out of his face. 

  The redness on his neck dissipates with every breath that he takes in. He may have been close to passing out if you hadn’t stopped soon. 

  “That was…incredible.” He half whispers to himself and you chuckle into his neck as you place soft kisses to his sweaty skin. 

  “I’m glad I could help.” 

  The timer on the oven beeps bringing your attention back to the dinner you started when you told him to relax. 

  “Ooohh, the lasagna is done.I hope you’re hungry.” You bounce up off the couch as he stands and pulls his sweats back on. 

  He feels like he ran a marathon and food sounds delightful at the moment. 

  “You made my favorite?” It’s said as more of a question than a statement as he watches you move around his kitchen like you’ve been here all your life. 

  “I made two actually.” You cut into one and place a serving on each of your plates. “Vegan and meat sauce. I’ll mark them for you so you know which is which.” 

  I love her 

Ella es perfecta

  You lick the sauce off your finger and he’s brought back to what you just did for him on the couch. 

  “I have something for you love.” Steven heads to the room briefly and digs through his jacket pocket before he finds it. 

  He sheepishly returns to the kitchen island where you’re digging into your smaller portion of lasagna. He’s trying  to rid his head of these thoughts for a second as you make the same noises from before as you savor your food. 

  His hand shakily slides the key towards you and you set your fork down to pick it up. The beautiful brass key looks so big in your delicate hands. 

  “Is this my prize?” You ask with a mischievous glint in your eye. 

  Smooth

  “Oh no…I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while. I didn’t plan it this way…it was supposed to be special and well…”

  “Shhh. Steven, relax, I'm just joking.” He eases a little at your words, knowing you’re just teasing him. You and Jake had that down better than he or Marc ever could. “I love it honey, thank you for trusting me with this.” 

  You lean in and place a kiss to his cheek, shorter than he would care for. He never wants you to stop touching him if he could help it. 

  “Eat up, before it gets cold.” 

  Before I take the body and eat my own

No me parece 

  He eats while they bicker, not wanting to waste another precious moment with you. 

  ****

  Your phone buzzes in your pocket as you stare out the window of the bus on the way home from work. 

  Steven: where are you love?

      On the bus I just left work, how was your day?

  Steven: It was quite dreadful 

           I’ll be home soon to make it better 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Tagging a few who might be interested

@missdictatorme @chichimisaki @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @melodygatesauthor @simpforbritgents

#moon knight fanfiction #steven grant fem reader #steven grant x female reader #moon knight mcu #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant smut #marc spector x f!reader #jake lockley x reader #moon boys x reader #steven grant fluff #sub steven grant #marvel moon knight #steven grant x f!reader #jake lockley fluff #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x you #oscar issac characters #oscar isaac

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I Didn't Know You Smoked

Steven Grant x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Steven has a secret habit.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Everytime I write something I feel myself putting on the clown make up more and more.

Warnings: Use of ‘fag’ as the British and Australian slang for cigarette, reader doesn’t smoke, blow job, fingering, p in v sex, cream pie, maybe kind of a cream pie kink from Steven if you look closely, swearing, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2741

The scent of smoke caused you to pause midstep. You shrugged off your backpack and hung it up on the side as you walked to the kitchen and put down your shopping bag. You’d been able to start cooking when you realised you were missing a few key ingredients and had made a quick dash to the corner shop. 

The smell of smoke hit you again, and even though it was very clearly cigarette smoke your mind quickly spiralled to smoke from a fire. Shit. Had you left a candle on in the bathroom? 

You’d lit one when you had a bath after work, the image of the flame somehow catching the towels and running up the walls burst into your head. 

You rushed to the bathroom, yanking open the door with such a force that the hinges groaned under your exertion. 

Steven practically jumped out of his skin, whipping his head around to look around at you, his eyes wide. “What the fuck?” He yelps.

“Shit, Steven, sorry, I thought I’d left a cand…” You pause, and truly take in the scene before you. 

He’s stood on the toilet, crouched a little so that he can reach the tiny top part of the window that actually opens. There’s a cigarette in his left hand. You can just see it from your angle. Steven’s hand outside in the cool evening air.

“You’re smoking?” There isn’t any judgement in your voice, just surprise. 

“Yeah, fuck, sorry,” he turns to hastily blow smoke out of the window, practically trying to shove his whole face outside before he grabs the old jar from were he had propped it on the window sill and stubs out his cigarette hastily. He puts the butt in there after and screws on the lid. 

You’d seen that old jar on his desk plenty of times. Just assumed it was filled with odds and ends. You didn’t realise it was his secret ashtray. 

The sight of him blowing out the billow of smoke is kind of… nice actually. Despite his obvious panic there’s something about it you can’t quite put your finger on. You shake your head. 

“No, don’t worry, I just… didn’t know you smoked?” 

Jake smoked, you could set your watch to his cigarette breaks; they were so precise. But he would always, without fail, go outside. Rain or shine, freezing cold or oppressive heat. He didn’t seem to mind if the lift was broken or not, outside he would go and the butt would go in the bin on the street after. Never on the floor. Jake was a stickler for that, had got into more than one verbal (and physical) fight with strangers who just flicked their fag onto the pavement. 

Marc had smoked, several years ago. But had quit and never touched another one since. It always used to puzzle him when he had the craving for one after not smoking for over a decade. 

Most other ex-smokers he spoke to talked about being revolted by cigarettes once they had fully stopped for a few years. Now that he knew about Jake, and his continuing habit, whenever the urge got too strong he just tapped out and let Jake go for a cigarette. (Marc still argued that smoking was bad for them, while Jake countered that technically Khonshu’s suit healed any damage every time they wore it. Which had led to a very lengthy debate over if Jake’s true reasoning for serving the moon god was so that he didn’t have to quit his nicotine fix.)

They didn’t smoke often, and Jake went more than out of his way to minimise any smell that clung to them. But it meant that you never found it puzzling if they smelt like smoke. It just meant Jake had had one. 

Steven had never mentioned smoking himself, in fact he often scolded Jake for it. 

“I don’t smoke, I mean,” Steven blushed a little, his shoulder slumping. “Well, that’s a lie, innit? I smoke… sometimes?”

“Sometimes?” You repeat with a small smile.

“Sometimes… just sort of,” he shrugs. “Feel the urge sometimes. I used to… before I met Marc and Jake, once or twice a month, just one fag, you know? I hid a packet under the sink.” 

“Under the sink?” You laugh kindly and Steven smiles and nods. 

“Yeah, here,” he gets down off the toilet and points at a little space under the taps. “And then I’d smoke out the window so I didn’t set the alarm off or stink out the place. I tell you, I used to always get confused because sometimes I would smell a bit like smoke, even though I hadn’t touched them in weeks.” He shrugs again. “I thought that’s just what happened.” 

You chuckle. “And you still sneakily have a fag every now and then.” 

He nods and grins bashfully, “every now and then… I know I should be good and go outside like Jake does but… it’s like, part of the ritual now. You know? Stand at an awkward angle and half hang my head out of the window. Wouldn’t feel right otherwise… plus sometimes I just can’t be fucked.” 

You laugh loudly and he smiles, glad that his little joke amused you. 

“Marc and Jake don’t know…” He says shyly. 

You nod and mime zipping your lips and he grins again. 

“Thank you, love.” 

You lean to give him a quick kiss but he pulls back a little.

“Sorry, I mean, I definitely taste like smoke, disgusting, you don’t want that do you? No.” He shakes his head. “I’ll brush my teeth.” 

You screw your face up a little in what Steven at first assumes is agreement at not wanting to kiss him while he tasted of cigarettes. 

You let out a little grumble and take hold of his cheeks, holding him firmly as you place a kiss on his lips. 

Even though the action is brief he does taste like smoke. And it’s kind of… nice again. A strange little spark of heat begins to grow in your belly and suddenly you can’t get the idea of fucking Steven with a cigarette dangling between his lips out of your mind. 

The way you know he would writhe and whimper, biting down on the butt to try his hardest to stop it from slipping out of his mouth. 

He moans low against you as you slide your tongue against his, spreading that smokey flavour across your taste buds. 

“Hmm,” he pulls back just a fraction to speak, even though his hands slide to your hips to pull you closer. “What’s gotten into you, love?” He grins.

“Nothing,” you mumble and kiss down his jaw, running your teeth over his neck and leaving sloppy bites.

Steven shivers, a little gasp of air hitching in his throat as he urges you even closer. You bump against his quickly hardening cock and he groans, bucking his hips forward to rut against you. Kissing his neck was always his weak spot. Practically guaranteed to get him hot under the collar at a second's notice. 

He whines a little as you move away from him for a momentarily, his fingers tighten instantly against you, trying to keep the space between your bodies to a minimum. 

“Here,” you grab at the cigarette packet on top of the cistern, and pull one out before you offer it to him.

Steven raises his eyebrow at you. 

“Just, erm, can you put it in your mouth?” 

He pauses for a second, chewing at his bottom lip nervously. “I don’t want to smoke in front of you love, if I’m messing up my own lungs then-”

“No, no, you don’t have to light it… just…” 

His eyes widen ever so slightly and a small smile pulls at his lips. “You like it, huh?” He teases softly. 

“No.” Heat burns at your skin but you can’t help but laugh lightly. “...yeah.” 

He chuckles and takes the cigarette, nuzzling into your cheek. “Alright, but… let’s not tell Jake about this, yeah?” 

You raise your eyebrow at him this time. “And why is that?” 

“Oh,” Steven shrugs, moving the cigarette between his fingers in an almost hypnotic pattern, “no real reason.” 

“Really?” You grin.

“Hmm,” he smiles playfully, “Jake gets lots of things.”

“Does he?” 

“Yeah… and maybe I want this to be my thing.” He kisses you quickly before he puts the cigarette in his mouth and leans close to your ear. “I bet if I stuck my hand down your trousers my fingers would come back soaking, wouldn’t they?” 

“Steven,” you try to chastise but your voice comes out all whiney and desperate. You can’t take your eyes off the way the cigarette just hangs from the corner of his mouth, bobbing with every word. 

He chuckles, taking it from between his lips so he can kiss you roughly, and hold the back of your neck with his other hand. 

You lick hungrily into his mouth and push him back against the wall, trying to regain some control over yourself and the situation. 

He lets you, in all honesty he always lets you do whatever you wanted, smiling the whole time when you pull back like the cat that got the cream. “Never thought you’d have a smoking kink, love.” He puts the cigarette back in his mouth.

“It’s not a smoking kink,” you scowl playfully and drop to your knees. 

“No?” He teases lightly, pretending to take a long drag. 

“No.” You unbuckle his jeans, pulling down the zip and relishing the sound of his contented sigh as you palm his cock. 

There’s a little wet patch of precum already soaking into his boxers from the tip, a visual cue of how desperate he is despite his quite commendable effort at seeming calm. His dick twitches as you touch him, as you languidly push his trousers and underwear down his hips and take his length in hand. 

“No,” you repeat, “I have a you smoking kink.” You give him a little smile as you look up at him before you run the tip of your tongue along his velvet warm length.

He shivers, letting out a small cry of satisfaction as his eyes close and eyebrows pinch together. The sight of him pressing his head back against the tiles with the cigarette at the edge of his mouth sends a sharp thrill down your spine. 

You lap at his slit, board, flat licks that have him shaking and squirming in no time as you lightly squeeze and pump him from the base. 

He tries to stay still, to let you play and tease at your own pace for as long as possible. But his self control is rapidly dissolving. 

By the time you suck his bulbous head into your mouth he’s practically crawling up the walls. He groans low in his chest, glancing down so he can watch you slowly bob your head back and forth, taking him deeper and deeper each time. 

You moan around him, trying to open your jaw and take him further but he’s so thick it’s nearly impossible. 

Heat burns distractingly at your core and you can’t sit still, shifting on your knees to rub your legs together to try to relieve a fraction of that maddening ache. 

He wants to grab you by the back of the neck and force his cock down your throat, wants to buck and trust and cum so deeply until he spills from your lips. 

Instead he bites his teeth together, almost severing the cigarette in two and claws at the tiles as bliss twists and grows in his stomach. 

You manage to take him a fraction deeper, your throat aching as you pick up the pace, squeezing his thighs and swirling your tongue around his tip as if your life depended on it, as if his pleasure was the only way for you to breathe. 

His stomach muscles clench, balls contract and you can tell he’s painfully close by the little whimpered moans that slip past his lips with every breath. You’re about to-

Suddenly he grabs hold of your chin, pulling you back off him and groaning at the trail of salvia that connects him to your mouth. He pulls you up and into his arms with a rare show of his strength and kisses you deeply, the cigarette falling to the floor. 

“Steven,” you moan, the sound muffled by his lips. 

“Off, off, off,” he mutters, undoing your trousers and pulling off your top and bra. He strips you so fast it makes your head spin, and then he’s sitting on the toilet lid and pulling you down onto his lap to straddle his thighs. 

Your hands fly to his shoulders and you have just enough time to tug his t-shirt over his head before he presses two thick fingers into your entrance. 

You moan, keening as he curls them, the sensation like lightening along your nerves and Steven swears.

“Oh god, you’re so fucking ready for me,” he mumbles, salivating as he sticks his fingers in his mouth and pushes you down onto his needy, weeping cock. His hips instinctively buck up as his tip notches in your entrance, sheathing himself halfway.

You moan, high pitched and throwing your head back as he stretches you deliciously. You barely have a second to adjust before he grabs your hips and forces you all the way down and it’s perfect. So full and hitting so wonderfully deep that you gasp. You can feel your slick gushing out of you, making a mess of him as he bounces you on his cock. 

He groans, eyes glazed over, blurting out fragments of sentences with every thrust. “Can’t believe you like me smokin’ that much, fucking amazing, so wet, squeezing me so tight, ah,” he moans loudly, pushing his forehead against yours and kissing you messily, so hungry for every part of you. 

You gasp against him, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own and chasing that sweet release so desperately. 

“Gonna fucking smoke everyday, become a chain smoker just so I can always have you whining on my cock, every single second, just keep you filled up and- oh shit!” Pleasure cracks into his being, surprising him with its suddenness and intensity. He moans loudly, rutting against you as he pumps you full of his spend. His skin sweaty, his hair clingy to his forehead as his hips slow and he comes down from his high.

Steven looks up at you with dark eyes, “fuck, sorry.” He kisses you sweetly, still breathing hard. 

“It’s okay,” you stroke his head and he preens up into your touch. Your thighs twitch, your need still thudding hard and making you squirm ever so slightly. 

Steven hisses softly at the movement, overstimulation flooding his mind with both pain and pleasure. 

“Sorry, I-”

“Keep moving,” he groans, pressinging his face against your shoulder and lightly biting your skin. “Cum on me.” He mutters, keeping his left arm wrapped around your waist while he snakes his right hand down between your bodies and rolls your clit between his nimble fingers. 

You gasp and whine lightly. Rocking yourself up and into his touch. 

Steven moans again, mouthing at your skin and the wet mess between your legs as you move. He thrusts upwards shallowly, rubbing you in perfect time. 

“Steven,” you pant, squirming as your legs start to spasm, the pleasure so close it’s on the tip of your tongue. 

“That’s it love,” he whispers so softly, “that’s it.” He looks up at you with his large doe eyes, completely enraptured with you in that moment. “You can do it.” 

You cry out, so, so close it’s driving you mad. The pull of his fingers, the rock of his hips, the fact that he’s still hard inside of you and pushing so deep. 

“You can cum for me,” he bites his bottom lip, his voice like silk. “Can’t you?” 

Pleasure spikes up and overtakes you, blossoming out and hitting every nerve. You moan, quieting yourself ever so slightly by pressing your lips to his and kissing him messily. 

Steven echoes the sound as you cum, your walls squeezing him so tightly and sending an aftershock of deep satisfaction through his veins. 

You breathe heavily as you calm, and he hugs you tightly, grinning and still looking up at you with those beautiful eyes. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#moon knight events #moon knight bingo 2024 #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x female reader #x female reader #steven grant x f!reader #x f!reader #steven grant x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[moonlight-prose]

I love all of the prompts for your Sinful Soiree! It's so hard to choose one!

May I please request 💕 Steven Grant 💕 with the prompt: 🌹 "i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know." 🌹

I picked what I think would fluster him because i have the feminine urge to make that man ✨blush ✨

Thank you, love!

SUBTLE THINGS

a/n: when i say i meant to finish this within the first week of me doing the event. i had half of it written but steven's inspo vanished for some reason. honestly this fic is just porn very little plot. i tried to add some, but i don't know if i was entirely successful. given that it's steven being needy and a little bit greedy. i hope you enjoy it darling! (also yes that gif was entirely necessary. it shut off my brain seeing it so i had to use it).

summary: "steven wasn’t greedy by nature. but something about you flipped a switch in his mind, and suddenly he was a starved man, begging for a taste of whatever you had to offer."

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, teasing, steven being hopelessly in love, fluff, oral (f receiving), cum eating, cumplay, masturbation, slight sub!steven vibes.

He was never subtle about the way he looked at you. Stealing glances as if he couldn’t get enough—addicted to the sight in front of him. Date night was a regular occurrence when it came to your relationship. A small routine to give yourselves something to look forward to.

If anything it gave you a chance to leave the flat for a change; most nights spent curled up on his couch in pajamas. You cherished moments like that, but you relished in times like this. Where you sat across from him done up as if it was the first time you were doing this, the sparks flying between you stronger than that night.

The same night he walked you to your place, only to come back an hour later per your request.

You smiled, sipping on the wine he picked and delighting in the fruity tang of it. Wishing more than anything that you were tasting it off his tongue. He watched your throat as you swallowed, his tongue peeking out to swipe against his lips as his fingers drummed on the table. He seemed antsy, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

Steven was first nervous when you were together, wanting to please you however you wanted. But then things shifted. He gained confidence in how he could render you speechless with just his touch alone. How you lost your breath with a single look in your direction. Except there were still moments when you were able to bring back that stuttering man you fell in love with—watching his eyes dilate, chest heaving with anticipation.

“Dinner was delicious,” you said, pushing away the now empty plate of food.

He nodded, his lips pulling up into that precious grin. “I found this place in a guidebook. A bit old fashioned if I do say so myself.”

“Old fashioned is good though.”

His smile grew, mouth opening to continue telling you the details of the guidebook in particular, but your foot running up the length of his leg caused him to freeze. You could practically see the words die on his tongue as his eyes widened, his breath stuttering in his chest. There were only a handful of times where you acted this brazen out in public—this needy for his attention. His affection.

Steven could replay them in his mind with ease—each moment burned into his brain.

“Love…”

“I have a little detail of my own,” you stated as if you were about to tell him the most mundane fact known to man.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless to the way you ran your finger along your bottom lip, cleaning up the smudged lipstick that was there. He found himself wanting to lick it off your mouth.

You nodded with a sly smile. “I’m not wearing any underwear.” He choked on this spit and you watched in glee. His chest heaving as he coughed—cheeks flushing a dark red. “Thought you’d like to know.”

“You’re…” His eyes dropped to the part of the table that covered your lap and you could practically see the gears in his head moving.

Steven thought for a second his heart would burst out of his chest. The knowledge that you were sitting there, bare for him to touch, to taste. He was a reserved man. Believing that you deserved the utmost respect when it came to where you two made love. But there were nights when he felt himself slip—desire overcoming any sort of sense that might have been running through his brain.

Before he could get a coherent string of words together, you stood from the table. The words bathroom and be right back being uttered. Except he wasn’t paying attention, eyes focusing on the slight sway of your hips when you walked. His thoughts immediately fell to what you looked like beneath your dress. Were you wet for him? Were you dripping down the inside of your thighs?

He was standing abruptly and following you before he could get a hold on himself.

Thankfully he was always one to be prepared. Paying for the bill before either of you finished your meals, because he knew you weren’t one to have dessert at the restaurant. Too invested in the thought of finally getting home where Steven spent the better part of the night between your thighs. He could practically taste you on his tongue, see your head tilted back in bliss as your thighs shook around his head.

His fist was rapping against the wooden door of the women’s bathroom in mere minutes. Waiting for you to open it for him.

“Took you long enough,” you practically purred, tugging him in by the lapels on his blazer.

He was pushed against the door, your lips sliding against his in a way that had his body going lax, a whine building up in his throat. In a quick haphazard move, he managed to lock the door before grasping for your hips—walking you back until your waist met the sink. His tongue licked into your mouth, your wet needy moan muffled as he took and took and took.

Steven wasn’t greedy by nature. But something about you flipped a switch in his mind, and suddenly he was a starved man, begging for a taste of whatever you had to offer. He pushed the skirt of your dress up, his chest heaving as he took in air like he’d never get it again. And there it was. The truth of your little detail all shiny with your slick—your inner thighs practically coated as well.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, eyes snapping up to see your lips spread into a smile, your hand grasping onto his wrist to tug him closer.

He groaned when his fingers slid along your cunt, the warmth of you practically seeping into his palm. There was no doubt now that Steven wouldn’t wait until the two of you got home. Not when you were willing and ready for him to take you now. Finding your clit with ease he grinned when your high pitched moan echoed off the walls of the bathroom. You canted your hips against him with a fervor he shared, your lips parting with small gasps of air.

“S-Steven,” you begged, teeth coming out to dig into your bottom lip.

“I’m here.” He wanted to devour you. To drink down the taste of you as if you were the best fucking dessert in this restaurant, because to Steven…you were.

“I need—f-fuck—need you baby.”

He nodded and before you could stop him, he was falling to his knees and spreading your legs wide enough for him to fit. With a dazed look in his eyes, he watched his fingers spread your slick up to your clit—his cock twitching painfully in his pants. What he wouldn’t give to spend hours right here, but you had a limited amount of time and he wanted to get you home.

Licking a broad stripe up to your clit, Steven felt the control snap inside of his body. Your hand slapped against your mouth effectively muffling your cry as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Two fingers dipping into you and curling as if on instinct. For him this was exactly that. He knew where to touch, what to do to bring you right to the end and back again.

He wanted to drive you to the edge and watch you fly off. The sight had become an addiction to him ever since the first time he saw it; now adamant on witnessing such beauty over and over again.

You dug your fingers into his curls, your hips rolling over his mouth and his eyes fluttered shut. A soft moan reverberating against your cunt as he licked at you, fingers pumping in and out at a rapid pace. He was drunk, desperate to have you entirely spread on his tongue. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. Sucking your lips into his mouth, he let them go with a pop, a wide grin spreading across his lips when your whole body jerked—a cry echoing behind your hand.

“Taste so good,” he mumbled, curving his fingers even more—watching in awe as your thighs trembled.

Words evaded you at that point. Your mind, a mess of nothing but Steven and the building pressure in your torso. He dove back in, doubling down on his efforts to have you cum into his mouth—your taste, something he wanted permanently stuck on his taste buds.

It’s when you began to rock your hips along his tongue with reckless abandon, moving him how you wanted, is when he felt it. The painful throbbing in his pants. Unbuckling his belt with one hand he managed to wrap his hand around his cock—alleviating some of the pressure. It wasn’t enough, but Steven didn’t care. His sole focus wasn’t on getting himself off tonight. No, he wanted to watch you crumble.

To scream his name so the whole restaurant heard you.

“Steven—” you gasped sharply, head falling back. “I’m gonna—oh fuck—”

He dragged his teeth lightly along your clit, pressing down on your g-spot and you shattered. Sobbing his name as your fingers tightened on his curls—pain blooming in his scalp and shoving him right over the edge with you. He grunted, hips thrusting into his hand as he spilled over his palm. A bright heat flooded his body, your slick now gushing into his awaiting mouth, and Steven felt like he’d ascended into pure bliss.

There was no bringing him down from this cloud, no saving him from you consuming him whole.

“Ah fuck love,” he grunted, biting into your thigh as he pumped his hand to reach that delicious point of overstimulation you usually brought him to.

“Did you…” Your face was fucked out, eyes hazy and blissed out, but still you watched as he continued to touch himself in front of you.

Something about the sight of Steven on his knees, so desperate to have you he couldn’t wait, shifting your entire mind. You bit your lip, tilting his head back as he gasped in pleasure—his cheeks red and flushed. It happened before you understood entirely what you were doing.

“Look at you baby,” you cooed, spreading your legs a bit more to show him the mess he made of you. “Open wide,” you breathed.

He followed your words without hesitation, his mouth parting. Sliding your fingers through your cum, you pressed your now shiny digits into his mouth, moaning when he sucked them clean. His whole body responded to you as it always did.

“Take me home Steven.” You wanted him inside you—aching to have him fill your now dripping cunt.

Getting to his feet, he tucked himself back into his pants and gathered you close. Pressing a deep kiss to your lips, licking into your mouth and spreading your own taste along your tongue. That familiar heady feeling returned, flooding your entire body until you practically hummed. He wasn’t subtle in the way he touched you, how he made it clear how much he wanted you.

Yet that’s what made you love him even more.

#steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant smut #steven grant #steven grant fic #moon knight #my writing #sinful soiree🥀 #not me fighting the urge to add spitplay to this #the temptation was there #but oof my brain said 'too filthy'

[the-little-ewok]

Entrée

Marc Spector X F!Reader / Steven Grant X F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+ 

Word count : 1650 (ish)

Warnings : Explicit, Soft Dom!Marc, lil bit dirty talk, PIV, unprotected sex, established relationship, F!oral receiving, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum eating 

Prompts/Summary : Smut prompts : "If you insist", "Make me", "Tell me how you like it." / Teasing Marc while making dinner gets you more than you bargained for. 

A/N : If you like this fic please don't just hit the like button. Hit the reblog button and tell me your thoughts! Support your content creators with reblogs! 

"Tell me how you like it, Spector," you tease in your most sultry tone, winking as you gesture to the spices you have picked out on the side.

"Will you please behave for just five minutes?" Marc scolds, rolling his eyes as you laugh.

You'd been teasing for a while now, wondering how much it would take to break his patience. Which it turned out, was quite a lot. But you know the last hour you've been getting to him. The pace of his breathing has changed, his temper is shorter, his eyes are darker.

You turn to fully face him, giving him the challenge you hope will break him.

"Make me."

There's a long quiet silence at first, where Marc puts down the knife he's been using to prepare vegetables, wipes his hands and takes a deep breath. For a split second you think you might have pissed him off, but then his eyes flicker up and down your body as he licks his lips, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Well, if you insist."

You turn to run, not wanting to give in so easily, but Marc is quicker. His arms are around your waist, pulling you back, pinning you against the counter before you've fully finished the thought of making him chase you through the apartment.

"We're supposed to be making dinner," you remind him with a victorious grin, as he presses his body against yours, pinning you in place.

"You started it. I'm ending it." He doesn't give you a chance to defend any of your actions, before he kisses you, hard.

Marc doesn't do things by half. He's all or nothing. And right now, when he kisses you, it's all. He consumes you, his tongue hot and slick in your mouth, his hands gripping your hips, fingers digging in, his body pressing yours into the edge of the counter, leaving no space between you.

You take it, everything he offers you. You sink into his kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging gently to pull the softest of moans, your body compliant to his wishes, moulding yourself to fit against him.

When he finally breaks away you're breathless, dizzy, hot, and wanting nothing more than to drag his mouth back to yours.

"Take it all off," he commands, tugging at your top before standing back to give you some space.

You open your mouth to tell him to do it for you, to challenge him, but there's a look in his eyes that makes your pussy clench in anticipation.

Leaning over you switch the oven off. Marc laughs softly with a nod.

"Good plan."

"Lucky you got a girl with a brain still in her head," you wink at him, watching him give an affectionate sigh.

"Clothes. Off," he repeats, taking a step of warning towards you. Disobeying his instructions probably wouldn't work in your favour, and for a moment you think of all the delicious ways he might make you pay for it, but that was for another day. You could only wind him up so much, and right now, he's probably had just about enough.

With a smirk, you lift your top over your head, throwing it to the floor. Your bra and pants follow suit.

You slide your panties down slowly, making him wait, slowly removing each leg, before standing with them dangling from one finger. You raise an eyebrow at him and lick your lips.

"This how you like i-," you cut off with a squeak of surprise as he suddenly spins you, taking both your hands and pressing them down against the counter stepping up close behind, pinning you in place.

It sets an unspoken rule. Don't move.

"Think you're clever teasing me all evening?" He asks, his warm hands releasing yours tocaress your ribs, running his palms down your sides, slowly, sensually, mapping you out before he delivers a surprising slap to your ass. It doesn't hurt, but you yelp anyway.

"Can't say you're making me regret it yet," you half sigh, with a cheeky grin, as he presses his lips against your neck. Marc lets out a dangerous laugh, his breath fanning out against your skin.

He only replies with one word.

"Yet."

~

It's been hours, you're sure. How many times has he brought you to the edge — with his fingers, his mouth, his cock — only to stop right before the drop? Too many times.

"Tell me how you like it," Marc growls in your ear, pressing you against the counter, his cock twitching inside you.

You whimper in response. Your body is slick with sweat, the effort of just staying on your feet making your legs tremble. He's held you here, right on the precipice for so long, his questions aren't registering in your hazy brain any longer.

"Tell me," He rolls his hips once more, slow and deep.

"Marc!" You whine, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. He can't possibly think you can formulate a coherent response in this state. All you can think about is the throbbing ache of need in your cunt, the way his cock is stretching your walls, and the warmth of his palm as he squeezes your breast.

"I want you to tell me how you want it, baby." His tone is softer this time, taking a different approach, trying to draw it out of you. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you need, how you like it."

You realise he's not going to give up. The only way he'll allow you to cum, is to answer.

"I like it when you fuck me," you slur, trying to remember how to talk.

"I'm already doing that." He gives a breathless laugh at your gasp when he gives a slow roll of his hips, pressing his cock up against that blissful spot inside you, the one that he's too damn good at finding. "You know that's not what I asked."

Marc chooses the exact moment you open your mouth, to give another devastatingly slow roll of his hips, making you choke on your words.

"I can do this all night," he mumbles, stilling again and bringing his mouth to your shoulder, sucking a mark there to join the others already littering your body.

You answer with the only thing you can currently think about.

"Like it when you make me cum," you finally manage to pant out.

Surprisingly, Marc lets out a soft chuckle, leaning his head against your shoulder, bringing a smile to your lips.

"Well, you asked what I liked," you mumble, somewhat shy now about your answer, as it clearly wasn't the one he was expecting.

"I did, and since you answered so sweetly..."

He draws back his hips, until only the tip of his cock remains inside you, before thrusting back in, deep and hard, setting a punishing pace.

You cry out in pleasure, falling forward onto your elbows, thankful for the counter supporting your weight.

"That's it, baby. Taking it so good. This what you needed?" He growls, low and deep in your ear over the sound of flesh on flesh filling the kitchen.

"Yes! Please Marc. Please!" You beg hopelessly, your body taunt and trembling, practically sobbing with pleasure.

It's difficult from your position, but you just about manage to wedge your arm between your body and the counter, pressing your fingers against your neglected clit. Marc's hands are busy, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you steady for each deep thrust.

The touch is all you need to go hurtling over the edge, his name a broken mantra on your lips, your back arching against him, your cunt clamping down, riding out your high in thunderous waves.

Your vision goes white, your body stiffens then goes limp, and you're pretty sure the only thing holding you up through it all is Marc's body pressed tightly against yours. Nothing else exists in the world except the two of you and the overwhelming pleasure.

It takes a long moment to come down from your high, but when you are able to manage coherent thoughts again you realise Marc's cock is still hard, buried and throbbing inside your still pulsing cunt.

He seems to have some sixth sense as to what you're thinking as he leans in, licking a warm trail up your neck as you move your hand back to the counter, trying to support your weight as your legs threaten to give up.

He leans in close, his breath ghosting across your ear, "I hope you don't think we are done yet, baby? That was just the starter."

~

Marc draws it out as long as possible, denying his own release until he can't hold back any longer. He finally gives in, letting out a broken moan as he spills inside you in long, slow thrusts, before he half collapses against your back.

As his breathing slows and evens, he brushes his nose against your back, up between your shoulder blades before he nuzzles your neck sweetly.

"Beautiful," whispers a soft British accent.

"Steven?" You smile, still a little giddy from your… well you don't know how many 'nth orgasms.

Steven hums in answer, his fingers trailing lightly across your ribs, and down to press his fingers to the mess between your legs.

You gasp as he brushes your sensitive clit, bucking your hips against his hand.

"You've made quite the mess," he comments, running his fingers across your slick cunt. "I didn't realise what Marc meant at first when he said I could pick dessert, but I think I understand now."

"Dessert?" You sigh, still on the way down from your recent high, confused when Steven pulls out and away from you.

"Stay there, darling." He instructs gently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him kneel down on the kitchen floor, taking one of your thighs in each of his hands. You frown, twisting slightly to look at him

"Wha-ohhh!" Your entire body trembles as he buried his head between your legs, his tongue flicking out to taste your soaked folds.

He groans as though tasting a gourmet meal.

"Can you go again, love? Give us one more?"

Your body is exhausted, your head in the clouds, thoughts fuzzy and unclear, your muscles ache, the counter digs into your thighs, Steven's fingers against your skin are too much, the dinner spoiling.

"Yes. Yes, Steven."

~

Dinner ends up in the bin, Marc orders take out, then Steven runs you a bath. You offhandedly remark that you still don't have any regrets about teasing them.

Marc promises the night is still young.

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

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this please hit the reblog button and tell me your thoughts! Your input is the only way to keep content creators creating content!

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #marc spector x f!reader #steven grant x f!reader #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #marc spector imagine #steven grant imagine

[lavendertales]

dinner party || Steven Grant x f!reader

summary: after attending the same book club for weeks, you and Steven run into each other at a dinner party and all of your curiosity and tension finally clash together.

word count: 3.8k

A/N: first fic of the year yaay😌 felt like writing something lighthearted so no warnings besides tension, a hot makeout session & Steven being a sweet literature nerd. I'm actually having a very hard time getting into writing & posting lately but I'm working through it. anyway, feedback is always very much appreciated ❤️

You weren't planning on showing up to this dinner, but according to your friends, "it’ll do you good" to socialize and get out more. While they may have been right about joining the book club to begin with, you don’t want to reveal the real reason why you're attending this event because they’re gonna be all over you, asking incessant questions and badgering you all enthusiastically and frankly, you need some time to process what you're feeling.

What are you feeling exactly?

You're excited about the possibility of seeing Steven again tonight. He’s the big reason why you're going to your book club’s owner’s house for this dinner party in the first place. You can’t help but be attracted to him; that much is clear, blatantly obvious. You are definitely attracted to him. He’s so damn intelligent and curious about things and open-minded and sweet… oh lord, he is so intoxicatingly sweet. And so shy! Steven seemed like the kind of man to wear his heart on his sleeve and that is like a breath of fresh air to you.

And when he mentioned the dinner party happening tonight… you figured it was the perfect excuse to go. It’s not a sin to want to see someone you're attracted to, right?

And it’s been such a long time since you’ve felt this attracted to someone.

Okay, so bottom line is, you're here tonight to show support for the book club, to have some wine and maybe talk to Steven.

You definitely want to talk to Steven. Or at least see him.

He’s got such a sense of humor too. The kind where he doesn't necessarily intend to joke but it comes out funny anyway and it makes you giggle involuntarily. He can make you laugh by saying dry and bad jokes, and when he talks about poetry and interprets it, about history, the way his eyes flicker when he talks about literature in general...

Yeah, one might say you are dangerously attracted to him.

Maybe tonight is a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t be around him and wine. The combination oozes trouble, and you are not a troublemaker. You are certainly not a reckless person when you drink. You're fun and lighthearted and honest, a little too giggly sometimes, but never reckless. You don't plan on binge drinking, so you should be alright.

Unless your nerves get the best of you and you remain tongue-tied around the sweetness that is Steven Grant.

By the time you soothe you nerves, you are on your second glass of wine, politely engaging with the guests, with Miranda—bless her for starting this book club in the first place—and then you decide to indulge into some appetizers and look around her library. Man, she’s got a huge collection! She has a library in the living room and, from what Miranda herself says, three smaller ones in the three bedrooms.

She says it’s okay to take a look throughout the house—or should you call it a mansion because damn!—and so you look in the first bedroom. You are more interested in the library. The book collection is so damn impressive. She even has first editions of books that would be considered extinct nowadays and you are in absolute awe.

“Oh, hi.”

You turn around so violently you nearly pull a muscle in your neck and spill your drink. There’s Steven, holding his own glass of wine in one of the hands, a boyish grin on his face. You instantly feel your cheeks burn at the sight of him: he’s wearing black suit pants, a turtleneck sweater with the sleeves rolled up and his hair is so curly and luscious it almost makes you sigh.

“Hi,” you finally reply with a flustered smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anybody was gonna sneak off to look at books.”

“That’s my idea of a party to be honest.”

You both chuckle, and you can’t take your eyes off him. There’s simply something magnetizing about his presence, about the way he makes you feel just by being around you and that’s dangerous. This has the potential to be a fatal attraction and it’s scaring for all the reasons that it's exciting.

Steven approaches you, although visibly hesitant himself. You clear your throat in an attempt to diffuse your own tension. “But it is a great dinner party though,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “Everyone’s so nice.”

“They are, yeah.”

“The music’s nice too. The food is—“

“Nice too?”

You break into nervous laughter. “I’m babbling. I’m sorry. I tend to do that when I’m nervous.”

“That’s alright. It’s—quite endearing, really.”

Your eyes shoot up at him. Your cheeks burn by this point, and you're fairly certain he can see how red they are, too.

“But why are you nervous?” Steven asks and his voice is so sweet and filled with care that it's impossible to not melt.

“Um… this is not a conversation for a second glass of wine.”

“For a third glass maybe?”

Your eyes widen some more and you find yourself absolutely flabbergasted at the notion that this sweet, intelligent and introverted guy is being flirty right now.

He’s flirting with me.

He’s actually flirting with me.

“Maybe,” you decide to tease against your better judgment. “But I wouldn’t want to ruin my image by binge drinking tonight.”

“I was thinking about getting a third glass myself, so I doubt you’d ruin anything.”

It’s tempting. Too tempting.

You shouldn’t.

But he’s so close to you and he looks and smells so good it impairs your judgment. There is no judgment to be done though. You are feeling needier and more impatient than you have in a long time, and you can barely keep it together.

“If you’re having one, then fine,” you reluctantly agree. “But three is where I have to draw the line.”

Steven giggles. The sound is so youthful and pleasant it’s almost like it tickles your skin.

There’s a moment of hesitation and silence between the two of you as you both acknowledge the fact that you should probably head back downstairs, but you remain locked in some sort of trance looking at the books on the shelves, still nursing on your second glasses of wine and stealing glances at each other. The tension is so thick that you're starting to wonder whether a knife would be able to cut through it.

“Can I confess something to you?” you foolishly ask.

Steven offers a polite smile and a nod right next to you and you feel your heart racing.

“I wasn’t totally sure if I wanted to come tonight,” you muster up the courage to say.

“After what I can assume are a lot of dinner parties over the years, this one probably seems a bit dull.”

“No, it’s—“

“Nice?”

You both giggle and exchange a glare that’s filled with yearning. Oh god, the yearning is consuming, devouring from inside out, clawing with unbearable hunger.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “But I’d agree with you in the slightest. It’s just an ordinary dinner party, nothing fancy. And I am all for that. But... I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

Silence. You gulp, afraid to find his eyes this time around.

“I really like—“

No. Stop before you say something you’ll regret and scare him off.

“I really like talking to you,” you smile at him, and you are so relieved to see Steven smile as well. Watching him be so flustered is an absolute delight. “So you’re pretty much the big reason as to why I decided to come tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the other members of the book club, but it’s just—“

“I was looking forward to seeing you tonight too.”

That shuts you up real quick. Your pulse has skyrocketed, and all you can do now is gaze practically shamelessly at this beautiful man, now in front of you. Your knees weaken, your yearning suppresses all other sentiments, and he is all that you can see. All that you want, the sole reason why you can scarcely think straight at the moment.

 It’s a primal instinct, to want and to have, and to be had.

The more you look at him, breathless, the more you wonder if he feels like that too. He probably thinks in far more decent terms than you do because you can get a bit too dark on the inside to think straight and decent.

“I really enjoyed getting to know you over these past few weeks, to connect on a human level,” Steven continues. “I mean, who you are. And who you are is… really fucking spectacular.”

You haven’t heard him cuss before and you wouldn't have pegged him as the kind of guy who cusses, but it’s definitely doing something to you. Might be him, might be the wine, or it might be a combination of the both. At this point, it's futile to try to understand.

Tonight is shaping up to be quite the evening after all.

“I’m—not,” you smile flustered. “I try, but sometimes I—I go a little dark.”

“That's alright. Everyone does, don't they?"

You scoff. “How are you so open-minded and okay with the idea that someone is telling you upfront, ‘hey, I’m kind of a mess sometimes’? How are you so—so dreamy?”

Steven laughs, scratching his head, and you realize you might’ve made him a bit uncomfortable with your previous remark. But it’s a genuine question because how is he this dreamy?! Can he actually be the ideal man?

All you know is that Steven makes you feel things you haven’t felt since high school, if maybe ever. You haven’t felt anything this intense in years. It might actually rekindle your hope for the male species.

“I wouldn’t call myself that,” he giggles. “A couple of my former dates might disagree with you. I'm not actually a pro at dating."

“Yeah well, an ex might be bitter enough to think that way. But I do think you’re an amazing guy, and… I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

“I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck. The way he says your name right after that sentence, your full first name, with that British accent sprinkled in, oh my God.

You discover, much to your dismay, that you are feeling things you haven’t felt in years. Carnivorous, urgent, tingling and prickling your skin and you're in imminent danger.

“So did you find what you came in here for?” Steven asks all of a sudden and just like that, when your eyes meet, you're a puddle.

Your heart’s thrumming in your ears, pounding away in your chest; so, so loudly you're afraid it might burst out for him to see it too. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, that much has been established; but this just seems incessant and over the top. You barely know him as a regular person and you just wonder… can you be this insanely attracted to someone you barely know?

“I think I did,” you respond eventually, your voice scratchy against your dry throat, like sand on paper. “Except now I’m debating… um… whether I should or should not have it.”

Steven takes a step closer to you, thus indirectly forcing you to look up at him and you swear you feel your knees buckle under the weight of this solitary glare. Then he clears his throat and stares at you, cheeks flushed and all.

“If you really want it, perhaps it means you should have it,” he says. “There should be no hesitation with the things you want.”

“What if—what if I’m not fit to have it? What if I do something to ruin it? Because this thing, it's—it's beautiful and sweet and kind and a lot of the time I'm not. What if when I inevitably hold it in my hands, I'll stain it?”

This would be a great time to claim this is a metaphor about a book on the shelf, but it isn’t. You know it, Steven knows it. There’s no need to pretend, even if no specific words are given.

“I suppose you have to take a chance and see what happens,” Steven says nearly breathless and to my shock, you see his eyes drop straight to your mouth. “It’s a gamble, as with most things.”

You unconsciously lick your lips and bite on your bottom one, and something changes in his eyes. You swear it fucking does. It can’t be just your imagination, however hormone-soaked it may be right now.

“Take Orpheus and Eurydice for instance,” he continues. “Their love was no gamble, no what if’s. They just knew it from the moment their eyes laid on each other. They knew they had to have each other.”

Okay, so citing one of the most infamous love stories of all time is not helping right now because you're really about to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment, for once in this damned life.

What repercussions would there be, anyway? You simply want to kiss him, that’s all; to kiss him on his cheeks, his nose, his lips, down his neck and down his whole body till he’s writhing beneath you and he’s a pleading, mumbling and sweaty mess. Pleading for the kind of release only you could give to him.

Okay, maybe some repercussions. And this isn’t the time or the place for any of that.

Shit, the image of a sweaty, pleading Steven haunts you now as you're met with his blown-out eyes, somehow still kind.

“That’s… I can’t argue against that,” you smile, way too flustered about the images running through your head. “Thank you for the wise words.”

“I have often been told I am somewhat of a wise man,” Steven jokes.

You chuckle. “You really are though. Um, Steven?”

You're not really sure what happens after you call out his name; all you know is that you pull him in by the wrist, our eyes locked in what seems like a pleading glare, both of us begging the other to move, to do something, anything, and then your body is pressed against the bookshelf, one large hand on the small of your back and the other in your hair, while a sweet mouth is a hot furnace on yours, pressing and touching relentlessly.

And you feel like you're straight up in heaven. You taste, see and feel heaven.

Christ, his lips are so soft, and yet the way he kisses is passionate, tender and ferocious all at once. It’s like he’s trying his hardest to let you know he’s gentle and caring but that he wants this so fucking much and the mixture, the entire idea in and of itself, has you absolutely feral. So much so that you kind of groan into his mouth, and that seems to spur him on. He pushes a bit of himself into you, and you're melting. You're melting and burning up and you never want to be apart from him, from any part of him.

You're left confused when you don’t feel his mouth on yours and oddly disappointed, but then you notice why he stopped. Miranda’s in the doorway, her hand on the knob, chuckling at you.

“My apologies,” she smiles at you. “Didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

“No, we were not—it’s not—“you start, losing the string of your own sentence as you manically lick your lips in what appears to be a feeble attempt at memorizing the taste of Steven's lips.

“If it’s urgent, the bedrooms are all free, and the bathroom’s stocked.”

You feel a rush of embarrassment flood you, and your cheeks are even redder than before.

“We weren’t planning on—on any of that,” Steven mumbles.

Miranda cocks an eyebrow at you, and you both feel like two teenagers being scolded—oddly enough. “Didn’t look like that from here. I was wondering how long it will take you two to finally get your act together. Enjoy the evening!”

With that, she leaves, and you feel even more determined to explain yourself, even if… really, there’s no reason to feel this way. You only shared one kiss, albeit a very heated one. Nothing else happened.

Could it have happened? If Miranda hadn’t walked in… would you have gone all the way?

You know you could have, with the way you felt so devoured and consumed by that kiss and by Steven himself.

Steven clears his throat, scratching the back of his head as he looks at you, his whole face red, just like his lips. Now that you’ve had a taste of his lips, of the way he can be when he wants something—someone—you feel feral, in an absolutely unhinged desire for more.

And it scares you as much as it thrills you.

"I'm really, really sorry," Steven apologizes.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I feel like I sort of lured you into this… bookish trap.”

And then something hits me. “Actually… no. I’m not sorry,” you correct yourself.

Steven seems surprised, only pleasantly. “I’m not sorry about this. We didn’t do anything bad, right? Unless the kiss was bad, in which case…”

He giggles, and he’s so damn sweet you could eat him up, spread him on a cracker.

Naked.

Okay babe, focus. Stay on topic.

“It was the stellar opposite of that,” Steven smiles reassuringly, though his eyes maintain that look in them that’s rather… feral as well.

“I’m not sorry about the kiss because… truth be told, I’ve been sort of… thinking about this for quite some time.”

“Yeah? Anything else you thought about?”

Oh shit, when he’s intentionally flirty is just so attractive you can barely hold yourself together in one piece.

“A lot of anything else,” you admit and gosh, how is it possible that your cheeks are burning even more?! “But this is a third glass of wine conversation. Or—maybe for another setting.”

Steven smiles, still flustered himself. His cheeks are rosy, slightly reddened, and it paints such a beautiful image. It is now that you realize he truly is beautiful: his chocolate brown eyes, long eyelashes, gorgeous hair, and simply the kind aura about him that makes you want to be around him at all times. He exudes safety and warmth and you have genuinely become frightened by how much you am into him already.

“Maybe that glass of wine isn’t such a good idea in the end,” Steven mutters affected.

“Oh? How come you changed your mind?”

“Full honesty?”

“I usually appreciate it very much.”

He leans back in, his eyes roaming your figure and your spine tickles with electricity. A hot and cold shiver passes through you; you tremble. You actually tremble. Holy shit.

“It’ll have quite an effect on me and I might want to take Miranda’s advice from before. Get on with what we started.”

Nothing but a faint oh leaves your mouth; and that’s barely the word itself, just a gust of wind that resembles the word oh, because your brain cannot compute anything at the moment besides what he just said.

And what he said is… well.

“And that would not be the gentleman-y thing to do,” he carries on, and his face is so flustered and yet riddled with something akin to neediness that your head starts spinning again.

Of course he wants to do gentleman-y things. Of course. How on brand for someone such as Steven Grant.

But oh how much you'd love to tell him—and show him—that he can easily do the opposite of that.

You can’t get the sensation of his lips pressed against yours out of your mind. You can’t get his taste out from your lips or your mind. It’s like he’s infiltrated far below the skin, straight into your bloodstream, swimming in your veins, becoming one with your entire system, and you find yourself absolutely speechless. You have genuinely no idea what to tell him or what to reply to him, so you kind of just stare at him in disbelief whilst also wishing for more, almost begging through that single stare, begging him to do anything remotely close to that kiss. Any touch right now would send you into a pleasurable orbit, even a breath in your direction would set your whole body on fire, and as you're thinking this, you come to realize maybe it isn’t such a good idea.

After all, you're still at the dinner party where loads of other people are and something like this, with someone as special as Steven, requires to be in a very intimate setting.

“Is there ever a time when you don’t think of the gentleman-y thing to do?” you chuckle and immediately face palm yourself mentally. Why would you so shamelessly pose such a flirty question when both your minds are in very fragile states right now?

Good god, get a grip over yourself, woman.

“Right now would be a very solid example,” he replies and you could so easily faint right now knowing that those words actually came out of his mouth. “But we can’t always give into our very first urges, can we? Otherwise it’d be so much chaos in this already chaotic world.”

Your jaw slightly drops as you look at him in awe. “You are... impossibly poetic.”

Steven chuckles, a soulful and hearty sound, and to know you are capable of rising such crystalline sounds from him, from such a beautiful man, it means so much to you.

“I just say what I think, nothing to it,” he keeps laughing.

“You’re really making things difficult right now, you know?”

“How so?”

“Well… let’s just say I have half a mind to surrender to that very first urge regardless of what might happen.”

“Kind of an unreliable narrator that urge, isn’t it? Saying it wants things, and it wants things badly, but rationality knows that if we do give into it, into that lust, we also become unreliable in a way.”

Your jaw drops further, and you shake my head. “Steven, you have got to stop with this, seriously. You’re making things very hard for me right now.”

“Sorry! I'm sorry.”

But he keeps laughing and laughing, even as he allows you to leave the room first and leads you back into the kitchen where we end up having a glass of water and talking about literature for another hour.

And around midnight, you arrive at the startling realization that you might be falling in love already.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x female reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fic #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac fic #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic

[ivystoryweaver]

On My Knees Part 3/3

previous | miniseries masterlist | my masterlist

Note: This can be read on its own - you'll just have a touch more context with part 2 especially

Content: f!reader, nsfw, language, hand job, nipple play, allusions to masturbation, reference to oral - f.rec. unprotected p in v, not beta'd

Word Count: 1.9k

PREVIOUSLY on On My Knees...

"I guess I better get on my knees and beg you not to get me fired," you whisper, your nose crinkling with a smile.

He gasps as you climb off his lap, kneeling beside him. You reach between your bodies to tauntingly stroke him before your fingers find the buckle of his belt. "Can I?"

"Oh god, yes, please," he quickly nods, working with you to get his pants open.

Meeting his eyes one more time, you ask, "Are you sure? Once I start I don’t think I'll be able to stop."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Maybe you should feel embarrassed that Steven made you come on your office floor without removing one shred of clothing from your body.

But as his cock springs free of his trousers, you lick your lips at the sight of him.

He catches you staring, wondering if this has all gone too far - beyond a wild makeout on your office floor where you came undone for him. Now his cock is right there and you're staring and frozen.

"Th-this alright, love?" His voice softens considerably as his hips shift in anticipation - yearning to be touched, to be fucked, even, but afraid it won't happen.

"Steven..." you gasp, your chest heaving with anticipation, with attraction, with raw want. "Is it too soon to...I want to..." You can't believe the utter mess he's made of you. Forget a brief, wild moment of passion - you want that throbbing, thick cock inside you now.

Reaching for your hand, he pulls you back to the present moment. "Want to what, darling? I'll give you anything you want just please... please touch me."

That lights a fire in you, sending you scrambling across your office carpet back onto his lap, your mouth crashing into his.

With one hand, you grab his jacket and with your other, you wrap your fingers around the pulsing length of him. He groans into the kiss, his hips responding to your fondling caress instantly.

He wants to fuck your hand - he needs friction. You're glowing and satisfied and he's losing his mind.

Maybe you'll let him stay like this, kissing you as you grip him - stroke him - and he can get some goddamn relief from more than his fist in the shower, imagining you just like this…

hungry for him, allowing his touch - his kiss. Too many nights, he's panted your name in his bed, wishing he could kiss his way between your legs and taste the core of you - praying that it could be him making you blossom for him. That he could be the reason your slick coats his lips and drips down your thighs while he eats you out.

You're stroking him tenderly now, but it's not enough. He needs more. After weeks of wishing he was the kind of man who could bend you over your desk, gripping your hips as he molds your desperate cunt to the shape of his cock, he has to have you.

If he could hear his name on your lips...

'Please, Steven, fuck me, fill me up..."

He’s wondered what your flat looks like, knowing you live alone. The thought of it somehow thrills him. Your sheets - drenched in the scent of you. He could only wish that you might plunge your fingers in and out of your sweet hole, furiously rubbing your greedy clit - or maybe stuffing your pussy full of a toy while wishing all along it was him -

'Steven, oh god, Stevennn...'

But you're kissing him and stroking him tantalizingly and he's growing desperate.

Your touch is featherlight. Not tentative - it's sensual. Your fingertips dip down to trace taunting circles over his balls while your tongue torments his own.

"Gods, please," he finally utters, tearing his mouth from yours, his hips messily stuttering as he desperately attempts to create more friction within the smooth palm of your hand.

Those words sound so sweet coming from his mouth and your core clenches, dampening your panties even more if that’s possible after your earlier pleasure.

Rubbing your nose against his almost affectionately, your mouth curls, satisfied that he's panting and chasing more from you.

"What do you need, baby?" You whisper. "This not enough?" You know it's not enough. The alluring tangle of your tongue with his has him chasing after anything you'll give him.

Slowly, cruelly, you withdraw your touch from his cock, pulling an actual whine from his plush, wet lips.

This apparent power switch feels incredible.

“Maybe we should stop. We are working, after all…” Now you’re just being cruel.

A desperate moan rumbles from his chest as he struggles to think coherently. He thought you wanted to go further - maybe at least to touch him - let him come. Gods, he needs to come. How can he dry hump you to orgasm - hear those sweet sounds and see the desire behind your eyes and then stop cold …

Well - you’re the boss.

You’ve climbed off the floor and crossed behind him to the other side of the office. Shaking his head, he struggles to his feet, figuring he misstepped somewhere - was too needy.

“Steven.”

You absolutely purr his name, drawing his racing mind back to the moment. He eases around, stuffing his cock back into his trousers when he sees you standing there in your bra and panties, having shed your blouse and pants when you crossed behind him.

“Had to lock the door,” you smirk, slinking toward him. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t tell my boss?”

Steven gulps, his eyes hungrily raking down the shape of your body. “F-fuck you’re beautiful. Want you so bad.”

You almost make another joke about him getting on his knees and begging, but no more jokes. You want him. Urgently. And he’s right here -flushed cheeks, kiss swollen lips, eyes wild and hungry - gaze boring into yours. You rush at each other like a film. Like something surreal.

He gathers you possessively closely, and steals your breath with the fire of his kiss.

His pants are still undone so you shove them down, with a lowly growled order for him to take them off while you push his jacket from his shoulders.

His long fingers - the ones you’ve stared at, wishing he would push them inside you - press into the curve of your back. Fingertips find the hooks of your bra and you whimper as he pulls the straps free of your shoulders. He pauses long enough to finish riddling himself of his shirt you’ve unbuttoned, kicking his pants off his ankles after his shoes.

Your loosened bra slips down your arms allowing your breasts to spring free.

This is happening. You’re fucking Steven Grant in your office. And it’s not just shoving skirts up and pushing panties aside. You’re completely bare to one another with the unforgiving fluorescent lights illuminating every flaw perfection.

He shakily exhales, wetting his lips before the two of you collide, stumbling your way to the sofa nearby.

He eases down and pulls you by your arms into his awaiting lap - your soaked panties providing the only flimsy barrier between you.

His hands are everywhere as your forehead drops to touch his. His warm breath tickles your face before he kisses you again, so deep, you forget to breathe for a long time, feeling heady and desired and even romanced, despite the clearly naughty series of events unfolding here.

His palm spreads over your back again, while his other hand slides up the softness of your tummy to cup underneath your breast. He caresses you like a lover rather than squeezing you like the other stupid teenager-brained assholes you’ve dated.

His thumb brushes over the stiffness of your nipple - his lips curling in satisfaction as you mewl and arch into his touch.

“You like that,” he whispers. And you hum as he brings both hands to your breasts, working you gently, teasing your nipples. Your head falls back, inviting him in for a taste. His hands slip back around to trace the shape of your back once more.

“Can I suck you?”

Your cunt clenches at such an unusual question - you’ve never really had anyone ask you for permission to suck your tits.

“Yes,” you whisper, even as he’s dragging his tongue teasingly over your stiff peak. He goes on like this for a minute and you realize he’s taking back the power because suddenly, you find yourself grinding down on his bulge like an animal in heat, chanting "please, Steven…" as he sucks you like he’s drinking from you.

“Knew you would sound so pretty if I ever got my hands on you,” he rumbles against your neck, sucking a mark there, pulling a whine from you at the loss of his mouth on your tits.

“I hate you,” you almost giggle as he kisses his way back to your mouth, smirking as he does.

“I’m sure you do,” he teases, “seeing how you’ve soaked right through those panties.”

“Take them off then,” you challenge, gripping his broader-than-they-looked shoulders, standing just long enough for him to yank them down.

His mouth goes dry as he finally sees you completely bare to him - tits gorgeously wet from kissing and sucking - the lightest sheen of sweat on your chest and stomach.

He’s shifting uncomfortably, palms running down his thighs, cock at full attention, weeping mercilessly, purple and fit to burst.

Locking eyes with him, you place one knee on either side of his lap, your hands still gripping his shoulders. Rocking your hips forward, you drag your folds over the tip of his cock - back and forth, letting him feel you. You’ve already come once and you’re desperate to fuck him. Your slick is dripping down his length almost embarrassingly, but you don’t lower yourself, despite how badly you want to be stuffed full of him.

“Please,” he whispers, hands grasping at the curve of your hips. “Can I have you? Fuck, please, please…”

“Yeah, baby,” you breathe, easing down tantalizingly slowly on his length. “Want this cock so bad, Steven.”

Your cunt squelches and he moans desperately at the sound of it, and of your filthy words.

“Fuck, you’re thick,” you hiss, shifting your hips to get him all inside you, shivering as his whisper tickles your ear.

"Darling...you're perfect." He grips your hips and drags you back and forth, thrusting up into you.

"So good, Steven," you pant, your head falling back in rapture as he fills you so fucking full. His hand claw their way up your back, pressing your breasts against his chest before his fingertips dig into your shoulders.

Hot breath falls on your neck, pulling a moan from your throat - the sounds around you growing louder. Skin obscenely slaps against skin as your cunt squelches, greedily milking his cock.

"Mm so close, love," he almost whimpers. Fuck, he sounds pretty like this. "Want you to come for me again."

You're so wildly turned on that it's no tall order. His hand grips the back of your neck, his forehead touching yours. The intimacy of sharing his breath contrasts the hungry slap of skin as you bounce on his cock.

His other hand slips between your folds, rolling your swollen clit between his thumb and finger. White hot pleasure sparks from your molten core, arching your back in ecstasy, euphoria rolling in waves all the way to your fingers and toes.

"That's it, love. Ohhh fuck," he groans as your cunt clenches his cock, your slick, wet channel sending him careening off a cliff of pleasure with a few final thrusts before he releases himself inside you.

You hold onto one another for dear life, sweating, sated and breathless. You start to come back to yourself as Steven whispers how beautiful and perfect you are, littering your cheek and throat with soft kisses.

"Was this your plan when you brought me that piece of birthday cake?" You finally tease, still catching your breath.

"Not exactly," he chuckles, holding you close. "But since you liked it so much, I'll bring you another dessert tomorrow."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Steven Grant-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

updates blog - @ivystoryupdates

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #on my knees fic #oscar isaac characters #moon knight ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ #mcu #Steven Grant x you #Oscar Isaac fic #moon boys #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x f!reader

[spacecowboyhotch]

Boy Meets Cat, Boy Meets Girl

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

prompt: kid fic or pet fic

contents: the feelings that come w/ temporarily losing a pet, meetcute, flirting

wc: 1,334

an: another promotional fic for @moonknight-events! steven is just…one of the sweetest, cutest men ever. written w/ the Marc’s girls server in mind, iykyk!

DISCLAIMER: as a event runner i will not be entered in the drawing for prizes. this is promotional only.

SP BINGO 2024 | moonknight masterlist

She’s sitting on the steps one day outside the museum after Steven’s shift. He almost walks right past her, bumbling down the steps with a soft hum. It’s been a long day of being yelled at atop getting sleep that just isn’t restful. He’s exhausted. He’s unobservant.

He’s nearly past her when he hears it— a loud, scratchy meow that catches his attention. Steven stops in his tracks, blinking rapidly.

Had he just heard a cat? On the museum steps? Sleep deprivation really was getting to him, wasn’t it?

He turns towards the sound, sure that there will be nothing there, that he is just hearing things. But there she is, perched on the museum steps as if she owns the place. She looks like a little heap of snow— her fur is fluffy and a stark white color that contrasts with her dark eyes and pink nose. He lets out a little sound of surprise, and then she meows back as if she’s answering him.

He laughs, a bright and cheery sound. “Well, hello there little one. Lost are we?”

She meows again, this time a little softer and if Steven wasn’t mistaken, a little sadder. He softens, taking a few cautious steps toward her so as not to spook her. When she does seem skittish, staying in place despite him closing the gap he simply sits beside her on the steps.

“Do you have a name, little one? Can I look at your collar? Promise I’ll be gentle,” He says, reaching his hand out to her.

She leans forward on her front paws, sniffing at the back of his hand before giving out a soft purr. She bumps his hand with the top of her head, nuzzling.

Steven takes this opportunity to reach under her chin, scratching gently before he leans in to peer at her collar.

“Iris— what a pretty name for a pretty cat.”

Another meow as Iris bulldozes her way into his lap. Steven gives her a series of pats, setting off several purrs that he feels vibrating through her spine. She's so fluffy, so soft. He could pet her for all his days. It’s nice to have this companionship, even if it’s just a cat. Hell, it beats talking to the statuer at the fountain in the park and Iris hasn’t spoken a word.

You know for a moment there, I wondered if you were the goddess Bastet,” He whispers playfully, like he’s keeping a big secret. Iris simply meows, using her paws to slip down and lay across Steven’s thighs. “Aren’t you cold? Is that a silly question given your fur coat?”

Steven lets himself sit, idly petting Iris as he watches the sun slowly disappear behind the London skyline. He’s completely charmed with this cat, with the peaceful feeling her company brings. Part of him selfishly thinks about taking her home and keeping her as his own. But, he knows if he’s this fond of her in a short period of time her owner is probably grief-stricken to be without her. He’ll take her home for the night and use his off day to pursue leads on her owner. Perhaps Marc could help with the tracking. For tonight though, he has some company and the idea has Steven rising to his feet, Iris in tow.

“How’s about we head on home and watch a movie? Are you a fan of Meerkat Manor? Or will seeing them scurry about get you revved up?” He whispers, ignoring the weird glances he’s getting from passersby.

As expected, Iris simply gives out a soft meow, snuggling further into Steven’s hold. He grins, raising a hand to pet her head as he rounds the corner, effectively running into someone.

“Iris! There you are. Oh my god, thank you. Thank you,” You gasp, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

If Steven thought he was charmed by Iris, he must come up with a word that holds more meaning at the sight of you. Your cheeks are tear-stained, eyes a mixture of happiness and guilt. Your brows are pinched together, and he has the urge to reach up and smooth out the wrinkle between them. The urge to soothe you. Even during the short walk, Steven had imagined his reluctance to give Iris back to her owner, but that’s all melted away now that you’re right in front of him. So, so beautiful.

“You’re Iris’ mum?”

“Yes. Fuck, thank you so much. I can’t– I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. I owe you.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I simply stumbled upon her outside the museum after work. I was gonna start looking for her owner tomorrow, imagined it was too late. But look at you, as diligent as ever.”

“The museum? What were you doing there?” You ask Iris before looking up at the man to whom you practically owe your life again. He’s very handsome, a little tired-looking but his eyes are warm, and his hair is fluffy curls. She’s everything to me,” You explain, squeezing Iris to your cheek, doing some nuzzling of your own.

Iris has clearly learned her affectionate manners from you.

Steven’s mind quickly wanders, wondering what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of your affection. He bats the thought away, flushing. “I can imagine, she’s a little charmer. Plopped herself right in my lap.”

“I’m surprised she got this close to you, she’s incredibly picky. She must sense that you’re a lovely person.”

“Well–I– I’m glad to live up to Iris’ standards. She seems to have good taste. Animals sort of choose their owners don’t they?”

“Thanks,” You murmur shyly, feeling your own cheeks fill with warmth. “I know that folks can say being a pet parent is cringy, but I really am lucky to be her mom. She has such an energy to her.”

“Warm. Calm,” Steven supplies, reaching out to pet Iris’ head, if only for the last time. She nuzzles into his hand and he smiles.

Your eyes track his hand, still a little surprised at how easily Iris is letting him pet her. She had hated almost every person you’d brought back to your apartment except a handful of friends. But, any romantic prospects had quickly made themselves scarce given your mean, overprotective cat.

“Exactly.”

“Well Miss Iris, I guess we won’t be getting to watch Meerkat Manor after all will we? Perhaps your mum could show.”

“Meerkat Manor?”

“It follows a little family of meerkats through the desert. Their struggles, their connections, their enemies. All sorts of things.”

“I’ve always been a fan of animal docs.”

“Yeah? I could recommend you loads of them.”

“I would really like that. I don’t think I got your name?”

“Steven.”

“Steven,” You repeat softly before giving him your name. “It’s really lovely to meet you. This is bold of me but…maybe we could see each other again?

Steven’s mouth drops open, eyes wide in surprise. “Really?”

“I told you I owe you and well– Iris seems to like you a lot. Maybe I could make you dinner as repayment and we could watch some meerkats live their lives.”

“I– yeah. Yeah, alright, I would love to.”

You and Steven quickly exchange contacts. He gives Iris a few more pets before rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Sound alright?” He asks, voice hopeful.

“Sounds great,” You confirm.

You shift Iris into the crook of your elbow, and to Steven’s surprise, wrap him in a one-armed hug as you whisper him a soft thanks. His response is delayed but he hugs you back, surrounded by your warmth and soft scent. After a few beats you pull away, giving him a smile as the two of you exchange temporary goodbyes. Steven makes his way back to his flat with a wide grin, grateful that Iris had brought the two of you together. Cat in arms, butterflies in stomach you walk home feeling much the same.

moonknight taglist: @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner, @hotchs-bitch,  @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb , @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings, @whatthefishh

#as promised from the poll…yes it’s a little early mostly bc i need something to distract me #steven grant x reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #moonknight fanfiction #moonknightevents #arson writes

[thecitysgraveyard]

Hiiiii I saw ur requests were opennn- how about some softdom! Steven Grant smut? Specific in which he calls reader "poppet" because that pet name is so cute!!!

oml yes yes yes a thousand times yes for that and thank you for requesting <3

okay well just imagine steven has been fingering you and making you come so many times that you've forgotten the number

you're so sensitive that any touches you get around your entrance you immediately moan or whimper, as he fingered you his other hand traced circles on your nipple and his mouth was on the other nipple

he's just been making you come over and over again mercilessly, he has a slight grin on his face as he hears your small moans and whimpers

he absolutely loves and i mean loves to tease you so much and honestly he'd love to tease and edge you all night long

he leaves a small trail of love bites from your chest to your neck and he feels you tighten around his fingers

"come for me poppet, last time i promise" he says and kisses you, you moan into the kiss as you come around his fingers

okay and well he was most definitely lying when he said that this would be the last time

<3

steven grant taglist - @dweffairy @amy-mxrch @pxgeturner

#kurt's fics #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant #moon knight smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction #moon boys #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #steven grant x f!reader #moon knight #steven grant x fem!reader #<3

[millerscoffee]

Hi! Congratulations on your 500 followers!! 🥰🎉

I would like to request “All I can think about is kissing you when I shouldn’t,” A confesses. “You aren’t mine.” with Steven Grant ❤

Thank you! 😘

thank you SO MUCH! yes! absolutely! i haven't written anything moon knight related yet, so i hope this is to your liking! ♡

confession

630 words | steven grant x reader

warning: fluffy fluffy fluff fluff, first kiss, friends to lovers trope, no use of y/n

A/N: this is part of my 500 followers celebration running until 9/9 ♡

This isn't the first time Steven lingered at the embrace of a hug with you, but it was the first time you called him out on it.

“Feeling needy, are we?” you joked, but it didn’t land.  Not the way you wanted it to, not the way that brought a smile over his otherwise exhausted features.

“Oh, sorry – I just, you know, you smell really nice, and…,” Steven trailed off, leaving you to tilt your head.  Not in confusion, but in suggestion for him to go further.  “And?” you pressed, pulling back to get a good look at him.

“It’s silly, really.  Rather just leave it,” his strong nose scrunched up with a shrug of his shoulders not far behind.

But you’ve never been one to hide from each other, even at the understanding that he wasn’t always himself.  You knew a lot about each other.  So why hide now?

“Kind of hard for me to just leave it when this happens all the time,” you looked over your nails – it was hard for you to be vulnerable at times, and Steven knew that.  Like he was rooting for you, cheering you on, every step of your way.  And you wanted to do the same, just… in the way you knew how.

Steven brought his hand at the base of his neck in contemplation, really deciding if he should just tell you or if he should run away.  Not that he would, but it'd be a bit easier to deal with that way, wouldn’t it?  You saw the wheels turning in motion when he decided to just go for it.

“It’s just… Please don’t laugh, alright?”

You nodded emphatically in an effort to let him know you were there for him – eager to find out just what it was giving him such trouble.

Steven’s eyes flashed shyly to your lips, then straight back to your eyes like he did something wrong.

“Love,” he started off.  This wasn’t new, the pet name, but there was something about it that made the air feel different, “all I can think about is… is k-kissing you.  I know I shouldn’t, I know you aren’t mine.”

The end of his sentence left his eyes to the ground, but you stared at him with your mouth slightly agape.  But you couldn’t just leave him to wonder, not for a second longer.  You found him, your hands on either side of his neck, lips chasing – searching – for the other set.  He’s as sweet as you thought he would be, and more eager than you anticipated.

His tender mouth first fumbled over yours, but quickly found its rhythm in satisfying you.  It left soft noises to escape from you both, like an offering up to each other.  That you both were found out by each other, for each other, in the moment.  “Steven,” you whispered, mouth still ghosting against the other set, “if I’d known.  If I’d known, Steven.”

“Shh, it’s alright.  It’s here now, innit?  We’re here, it’s alright.”

His words were enough to soothe you.  Bringing your forehead to meet his, you laughed and so did he and it felt perfect.  If only for a moment, it felt like everything aligned to perfection.

“You are so brave, you know that?”  You praised him, leaving him to blush under your gaze.

“It’s easy when it’s you we’re talking about,” Steven deflected, wrapping his arms around your middle before he could give you a chance to argue.

You lingered in silence for what felt like forever as he held you, and you held him.  “I’m not yours?” you challenged, finally letting your words come back into the room.

You had a feeling that would all change.

Your connection with Steven, your places in each other's lives.

All of it.

#steven grant #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfic #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x gn!reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x m!reader #500 followers prompt

[boredzillenial]

Day 17: of @flightlessangelwings fawktober!

Steven accidentally discovers a new kink with you.

Themes: SoftDom!Steven, praise kink, f!reader, established relationship, bit of Somnophilia - oral (Steven receiving), pinv, creampie

Morning light filters through the open shades as you wake. You stretch and turn to see your sweet boyfriend sleeping soundly. Though you’d moved in for a month now your heart still flutters when you see Steven like this. Curls tousled across his forehead and lashes resting against his cheeks.

As your gaze grazes over him you notice the tenting of the sheets around his cock and hear soft whimpers escaping his lips. You continue watching, enjoying his little sounds till you hear him moan your name and roll his hips. Your resolve to sit back and watch snaps in that instant and you slowly pull the sheets back.

His cock springs free with copious amounts of precum smeared across his soft stomach. Heat pools in your core as his girth pulses and jumps, desperate for touch. You shift slowly over him and glide your tongue from the base of his length to the leaking tip, earning you a wrecked groan and sending Steven writhing. You take him into your mouth and work him deeper and deeper until he nearly hits the back of your throat.

“S-sweetheart?” He stammers, his breathes already ragged as he comes to with your mouth around him. You swirl your tongue around his tip then take him deeper again. He leans his head back, neck straining in what you could only assume as his attempt to hold back his release.

“S-so good.” Steven shudders as your mouth works over his length. “Such a good girl ah-“ he whimpers as you moan around him. That moment of praise sending lightning through your nerves as the vibration sent a shiver up his back. “O-oh shit,” he gently pulls you off him, your lips giving a soft pop as you come up and smirk. He returns it with a sleepy smile of his own as he caresses your cheek. He quirks up a brow and squints a bit as his soft gaze peers into yours, as if he’s searching for something. He smiles and pulls you forward, soft warm lips meeting yours as his hands caress your sides.

Your hand comes up to grip around his girth and you start to stroke until his stops your movement. “Already been so sweet to me love.” He says against your lips. “I wanna make you feel good.” He nips your bottom lip playfully and shifts until your back lands against the mattress.

“But I was gonna -“ he stops your protest with a rare stern gaze. You put your hands up in surrender as surprise lights up your grin. “Yes sir.” You giggle.

His voice drops into something a bit rougher, “Good girl.” His words sent your mind swimming in a lusty haze as you work hard to keep still. Your minute squirms are exactly the tell he’s looking for. “Oh someone like that huh?” He grinned.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I guess.”

“No no don’t do that. You can be honest with me love. I won’t tease you like Jake would you know that.” His hands stroke up your thighs and pulls them open, rubbing slow circles around your sensitive bud. “And if he tries to tease you later I’ll handle it.” You bite your lip to stifle your moan as your hips move in time with his caresses.

“P-promise?” You ask in a soft shaky tone, the hint of embarrassment melting away with every stroke of Stevens thumb.

“ ‘Course.” His thumb presses a bit harder and his movements roughen as your breathing changes. “Tell me what you want.” He says softly.

“Wanna feel you.” You groan. He follows your plea immediately. Taking your ankles and placing them on his shoulders as he lines the fat tip of his length against you.

He begins rolling his hips to work into you but loses control and slides to the hilt in one go. Your mewls and whimpers stir something deep in his heart as you writhe against the stretch of him. “Take it for me, know you can.” Your legs tremble as he leans forward, pushing further still into your heat as he adjusts to a new angle.

“Steven, baby, please I -“ your hands grip onto his arms as your walls flutter around him.

“You’re doin’ so good.” He trembles, dark curls furling over his brow as he ruts into you. “So good f’ me.” Your core tightens around him at his praise earning you another groan. “Fuckin’ hell.” He squeezes his eyes shut and slows down. “Gonna make me cum before you do. Can’t have that.” His breathy laugh sending butterflies through you as he stops, remaining fully seated in your pussy.

He leans back, keeping your legs where they are pressed against his torso but opening you up to reach your clit. “Need you to come for me darling. I know you can do it.” His touch is once again firm on your aching clit. The combination of the stretch of him buried deep in you and the quick movements across your bundle of nerves has your orgasm crashing over you before you realize it. “Such a good girl, know you can give me one more.” His touch doesn’t slow and overstimulation begins shooting lightning through your nerves.

“Steven!” You cry out and reach for his wrist to slow his movements. He only take your hand with his other and intertwines his fingers.

“Shh, just one more.” He starts to churn his hips in time with his thumb. Your whimpers and moans fill the cluttered flat space as your second orgasm comes crashing over you. “Good girl that’s it.” Your legs shudder as he slowly moves them to wrap around his waist. “Just breathe love I’ve got you.” He whispers as he leans in, slotting his lips against yours.

You wrap your arms around him and hug him against you as he pumps his cock into your soaking channel. “Gonna take it for me? Gonna hang on tight and take my cum?” He whispers against your lips as his hips begin to stutter.

“Yes, fuck Steven fill me please.” You groan into his mouth as you kiss him again. Between the roll of his hips and the eagerness of his tongue as it slides into your mouth you were edging close to your third climax. “Please, please.” You plead between kisses.

“You beg, s-so well darling.” His breaths come in pants as he loses control again. “Gods, so good f’me.” The final praise has you crashing in time with him. His cock pulses thick ropes into your fluttering pussy as you cling to one another.

You nestle your face into the crook of his neck as his hips slow to a stop. You relish in the feeling of his girth continuing to pulse cum into you as his breathing slows. “T-thank you.” You whisper into his tanned skin as you hug him tightly.

He peppers your face with kisses drawing out giggles from you. “Anything for my good girl.”

———————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#fawktober2023 #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant fic #steven grant x female reader #steven grant reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you

[foli-vora]

Female reader. Steven grant. Prompts: 21, 26, 75.

In my mind is something like reader having to protect sweet Steven, so she breaks up with him and he’s destroyed and begs her to not leave him or something but ends up telling her he hates her after the whole break up scene, and she leaves.

Break my heart with this please. I want to feel stevens sadness and readers heart breaking knowing it’s what she has to do.

CONGRATS ON 3K MY LOVE!!! PRECIOUS FOLI IM SO HAPPY TO SAY THAT IVE BEEN HERE FOR LONG RIDE!! It’s an absolute honor to read you.

my sweet love, i am so honoured you've been here for the long haul and i appreciate you so much! thank you for your request, i had so much fun breaking sweet boi's heart! i hope this is painful enough for you x

tear into my heart

steven grant x f!reader

word count: 2359 warnings: angst. so much angst. mention of the avengers/other marvel characters, brief mention of S.H.I.E.L.D & HYDRA, mentions of danger, mentions of death/dying, lies, a fake affair, break up, brief violence (throwing a plate)

Dread.

It fills you. It runs through your veins, churns restlessly in your gut and fills your throat until it feels impossible to inhale. Panic begins to build, with sweat stinging at your skin and bringing a wave of fog over your mind.

How had things gotten so out of hand? You’d thought for sure the situation would be contained, would be dealt with so easily. It was looking fine, everything had gone well and it was meant to just be over. Done with. Finished. You should’ve known it was never that simple.

Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.

How did you get here? Maybe you could explain, maybe you could keep him safe, maybe it didn’t have to be this way—

Bucky sighs, the crackled whisper of it falling into your ear from your phone and you bite down on your lip to stem the bitter feel of tears. 

“I’m sorry, doll. I wish there was another way.”

You swallow around the sudden dryness in your throat, picking at the blanket beneath you. The blanket you often shared with him.

The blanket he’d draped around your shoulders when you had a cold, the blanket you tucked around him when he fell asleep reading on the couch… so many memories with just a bit of fabric. You dare not look around to see the other trinkets and memories lingering in his flat.

“Am I doing the right thing, Buck? I don’t want to hurt him, surely I—we—can protect him—”

“I wish I could say we could, but the reality is I just don’t know. Do you want to risk it?”

Could you risk it by staying? Risk him?

“No,” you reply softly, knowing you’d rather suffer the pain of not being with him rather than the pain of potentially burying him. You needed him safe. You needed to know he was safe.

“Maybe once this is over, you could sit him down and explain everything. He might understand?”

Would he? Would you even get that far? While confident in your skills and abilities, there was always a chance of not walking away, and you might never have the chance to fix anything. Death has never frightened you — the possibility simply came with the job and you had long made peace with that, but now?

A trickle of fear buds in the centre of your chest. Could you die knowing you had left him heartbroken? Could you die knowing you didn’t utter a final ‘I love you’? Would he even know you died?

As far as he knew, you worked in an office. A simple job, with occasional travel included.

You hated lying, but it just seemed a lot easier than coming out with the whole 'Oh, well I worked as an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D before that went up in literal flames and I’m now actually stationed in London and employed by the Avengers on the recommendation of Agent Barton'.

Steven was nervous enough in the beginning, you didn’t need another reason to scare him away with that whole backstory. 

“Yeah… maybe,” you mutter, desperately blinking the shine of tears overtaking your vision. “Okay. I’ll be an hour or so, I don’t want to just leave him a note—I want to do it properly.”

“We’ll be here, doll.”

Knowing you didn’t have long until Steven got home, you pass some time by shoving clothes into a bag and clearing your things from the bathroom, trying to not focus on the way his toothbrush now sits alone in the cup. You can barely look at your reflection in the mirror.

Emotion claws at your throat when you empty your side drawer and pluck the single polaroid from its depths. You hold it between two fingers, studying the way he looks so damn handsome in his glasses and fully focused on the little book in his hands, completely oblivious to you taking a photo.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingertips over its shiny surface before slipping it carefully into the front pocket of your bag, unwilling to part from it should he not want to see you once you were finished with the mission.

At least he’d be safe.

“Take care of him, Gus,” you murmur to the glass, watching the orange fish swim his usual paths through his tank.

The door opens, drawing your attention away from the little animal, and in shuffles Steven, rustling with a plastic shopping bag and a tired smile that considerably brightens when his eyes find you. Your heart quickens in your chest, his presence never failing to send your system into a tizzy.

He’s too good for this, too good for you.

“Hiya, love. Gods, you would not believe the day I’ve had—”

Off he goes.

You love his ramblings. You love how he would use his hands so much as he talks, how expressive he would get and how he was oblivious to anything happening around him. He would talk and talk and talk, and you would soak it all up, hanging on every word falling from his lips.

Just for a moment, you enjoy the normality of it; the calm before the storm, the peace before the pain. He’d stop soon, realising he hadn’t yet given you a kiss, so you straighten before he can do so, knowing if you were to feel that simple, tender press of his lips you wouldn’t have the strength to walk out the door.

“Steven?”

The word gets trapped in your throat.

“—and then some kid knocked the stuffed scarabs over so that was a little disaster in itself coz you know what Donna’s like. Oh! There’s that new David Attenborough doco on the telly tonight so I thought we could watch that and order in some tea, maybe have a little b—”

“Steven,” you repeat louder, firmer, “we need to talk.”

Immediately, he stops. His eyes fly to you and you fight to weaken at the softness swimming in them. This is for him, you remind yourself. It’s all for him. He’d be killed if they knew.

“I thought we already were, though it was a bit hard for you to get a word in what with me going on,” he gives a chuckle, but your face remains indifferent to it. His eyes flick over your face, taking in your cool, stiffly set features and his smile falters. “You ‘right, love?”

Here we go. I’m so sorry.

“No. I’m leaving.”

He blinks, “You what?”

“I’m leaving. This is over.”

“Over?” Confusion twists his brows, his face pinching as the words ring through his ears. “What do you mean ‘over’?”

“I mean this—” you gesture between him and yourself, “—is over. What we have? It’s done. I’m done, Steven. I’m leaving.”

“What? No, you—you can’t. We—” he runs a flustered hand through his curls, his chest jumping with his sharp inhale, “everything’s great. It’s great. Wh… I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur before you can stop the words from falling, forcing yourself to swallow the feel of your heart beating in your throat.

“Is it the sleep thing? Love, I-I’m sorry, I can… I can figure something out! I’ll tie myself to the bloody bed if I have to!” He smiles, laughs, but it’s all nerves, panic. 

So many nights you’d woken to him up and moving about. The first time it happened, it was almost as if he didn’t recognise you, like he was so lost to dreams that he wasn’t truly there and was startled at your presence. It happened frequently, almost every night, and with the more you began to stay over, the more it became a routine. 

You’d coax him into bed, wrap him in the quilt and kiss his cheek with a loud smack, expecting his dorky little chuckle or an adoring little comment, but instead you were met with stares that didn’t seem quite so familiar. He looked like Steven, smelt like Steven, but the eyes… there was something there. 

“No Steven, it’s not the sleep thing.”

“Is—is it me?” He asks shakily, faltering on a step forward and bringing his hands together anxiously, his fingers turning and twisting around the others. “I know I can be a bit much, love, but I-I can change… I’ll do anything for you, anything—”

It pierces right through your chest, impaling your heart and tearing it in half. How could he think that? He’s lovely. So, so lovely. You’ve never met anyone like Steven. He’s beautiful. He’s smart. He’s kind and warm and so damn sweet—

“It’s not you, please believe me when I say that.”

No, it’s not you, precious boy. I’m so sorry. 

His hands begin to tremble.

There’s nothing more to say. It’s done. You let your gaze fall away from him, taking a quick second to gather yourself and keep your posture straight, ensuring to swallow down the pressure in your throat before it could morph into tears. 

He moves when you do, watches you pick up the readied bag he had passed coming in, and he steps in front of the door, holding a hand out in an effort to keep you still.

“Love, please—”

“I’m going, Steven.”

He doesn’t move. He stands there in your way, hands shaking by his sides, his lips pressing tightly together to keep the noticeable wobble at bay. 

“Please let me do this,” you mutter, the dull sting pricking the back of your eyes. Get out now.

“You can’t leave, love. You can’t, we—you’re my everything. Please—please, just—we can fix this. Whatever it is, we can fix it!”

He won’t let go.

Gods, Steven, please let go.

The thought of this all blowing out of control and someone finding him… the thought of it makes you physically ill. Your mind rejects the images of him hurt, beaten, laying bleeding and broken on the floor, his eyes empty and staring vacantly into nothing.

Bile builds in your throat. You have to protect him, you have to keep him safe.

There’s a way to make him let go, but it’s fucking brutal, and you’re almost certain there’s no coming back from it. But it’s okay. If he’s safe, it will be okay. It’s for him.

A bubble of self loathing builds in your gut. Please forgive me.

The words make you sick.

“There’s someone else.”

The moment holds after your spoken words, the air in the flat turning harder somehow. His heart shatters. You can see it play across his face. First the confusion, your words not quite sinking in. Someone else? No. No, you would never. The denial—you wouldn’t do that… no, you love him, don’t you? The pain. It pierces right through to the very core of you.

You bite down hard on your tongue. There’s so much you want to say. You want to cry, you want to apologise, you want to cradle him and tell him there’s no one else, there could never be anyone else… but you stand firm, watching the daunting understanding leak into his features.

His shoulders drop, and those tortured eyes meet yours.

“Oh. What’s their name?”

Your training kicks in.

“James.”

“James,” he repeats quietly, his throat bobbing with a swallow. “How long?”

“Steven—”

“How long?”

“A few months,” you lie through your teeth.

Lying had always been somewhat of a second nature to you, but here? Now? The words burn your mouth. The lies feel acidic on your tongue. It burns to the point you think you can’t utter another word.

“All that time?” He whispers in surprise, his voice cracking.

His lips press firmly together but the action doesn’t stem the tears that build along his lash line. The barrier breaks and they eventually spill, falling from his eyes and painting his cheeks with trails of heartbreak.

“Does… does he know about me?”

You don’t answer, but he seems to draw a conclusion from the look on your face. He gives a barely there broken chuckle, forced through shaking lips.

“Bet you both had a right laugh,” he mutters scornfully, “while your stupid little boyfriend waited in his stupid little flat.” 

Your face creases, “Steven—”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes dropping to the floor as more tears stream down his face. “Gods I love you, but I fucking hate you right now.”

And with those final words, he crumbles.

His devastation is palpable, and your heart shatters alongside him.

He wraps his arms around himself, unable to raise his eyes enough to meet yours as he shuffles out of your way, freeing your exit and allowing you to leave. A warm tear slips down your cheek as you listen to the sounds of agony falling from his throat, spreading over your skin when your fingers rise to brush it away.

Every step towards the door is a struggle.

You want nothing more than to turn around, to stay. The door knob is ice cold under your fingers, mirroring the feeling of grief spreading out from your gut. His cries echo around you, burning into your mind with each broken inhale and heavy exhale.

The soul shattering sobs stop, and the startling finality of it is enough to have you pausing where you pull the door open. His curled shoulders stiffen and his body hardens, almost as if he just snapped right out of his heartbreak.

He half turns, his dark, wild gaze locking onto you from beneath the mop of curls falling over his eyes and you’re frozen from the bitter hostility filling them. The rage, the hatred.

It’s not the stare you’re used to meeting at night. This is different. 

The air changes, thickens.

He’s different. 

“Steven?”

“Get out,” he rasps, voice taking on a deeper, angrier husk and it’s not him—it’s not your Steven, “now.”

“What—”

“Leave!”

His hand swipes a plate from the table, sending it flying across the room before it shatters into pieces against the wall and you swallow a sob, quickly resuming your exit and aching at the sounds of further destruction that echo down the hall once the door slams shut.

-

moon bois tags: @acourtofsnakes, @greeneyedblondie44, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @itswanktime, @stevenmylove, @ruhro7, @juletheghoul, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @asgardiandeadpoetsociety, @excitedcurtain864, @chickencouncilrep, @bluestuesday, @katronautt, @what-iwish-you-knew, @totallynotastanacc, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticevilbakugo, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @midgardianminx, @mishasminion360, @detectivecarisi-1, @quicksilvermad, @raphaelaisabella, @iceclaw101, @thatpinkshirt, @breakfastonpluto19, @withakindheartx, @sirpascal, @littleone65, @xoxabs88xox, @timpletance, @jitterbugs927, @randomchick546, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @Curiouser-an-curiouser, @h-hxgirl, @mischiefnevermanaged94, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @xxvariant, @welcometostayingawake, @trinkets01, @shadowolf993, @mwltwo, @loveslide, @lccs-world, @artsymaddie

#foli's 3k #steven grant x reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant imagine

[pimosworld]

Happy 700 Followers!!!!

For you celebration: 💌, a little fluff with any of our moon boys?

(live footage of Steven telling you how brilliant you are)

You said any of the moon boys so I decided on all

Pairing-Moon Boys x reader (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake lockley x reader)

Summary- What’s Valentine’s Day without a little friendly competition

CW-Fluff,Fluff,Fluff inaccurate depictions of DID

WK-838

A/N- A little self indulgent because don’t we all secretly want them to spoil us

Not beta read

Three of hearts

This might be the coziest feeling in the world. It’s warmer than usual in the flat and it feels like you’re enveloped in a cloud of softness and fluff. You don’t feel the hard press of your boyfriend's body on you but for some reason your movement is restricted. 

  It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the morning light as you stare directly into the beedy eyes of a large stuffed animal. You rub your hands along the plush brown bear with a red bow wrapped around its neck. You’re certain there’d be no room for anyone else with the way the bear takes up half the space. 

  You sit up slightly trying to move your legs under the weight of the covers. Something long and lime green is draped across your feet as you struggle to pull it up to you. It's soft in a velvet way and it has pink spikes across its back. You think it resembles some kind of dinosaur or lizard…you aren’t entirely sure. What you are sure of is that it has an adorable name tag around its neck, LEONARD is etched in bright pink font on a heart shaped collar and you can’t help but giggle to yourself. 

  Something falls against your back and you’re momentarily startled as a large pink trunk hits your shoulder. You roll the Dino-lizard off you to turn around and inspect the baby pink elephant that looks about the same size as you. You rub the shag material on your face as you clutch it in your grasp. It smells like lavender and has the cutest smile on its face. 

  “Told you.” 

  Jake's voice brings your attention back to the room as he stands in front of your floor length mirror. He’s still shirtless in his boxers with his hands on his hips and the most smug look you’ve ever seen in your life. 

  “Told me what?” You say as you pat the small space of bed left next to you. 

  “Nothing mi amor.”

  He quickly obliges, gently taking the stuffed animal from you and delicately placing it back against the headboard. He urges you to scoot back as he crawls up your body leaving feather light kisses along your thighs and over your stomach. His breath is hot against your shirt and you're in sensory overload. The soft animal against your back, the smell of him and the lavender lulls you into a sense of calm. You don’t even notice the switch when Marc nips at your neck. 

  “Tell him he’s wrong.” He husks into your ear and wraps his arms around your waist. He tosses the elephant to the edge of the bed with a little too much force and replaces it with the giant stuffed bear. Your body falls as he lets you go and you land with an oomph. His signature smirk is painted on as he leans back on his heels. “That’s much better.” 

  “Is someone going to fill me in?” You look at him quizzically and his eyes roll back before he can answer. 

  He tuts and swings his feet off the bed. “He sat on Leonard on purpose, I know it.” Steven when frustrated is quite possibly the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen as you try to hide your smile. He picks up the-“ He’s a dinosaur you know.” Dinosaur like he weighs nothing and lays him next to you. He taps on the collar with the most delighted look on his face. “You can tell them they’re both wrong love. You can’t own a pet animal without a name, it’s just ridiculous.” 

  You can’t decide if you want to laugh or cry at the absurdity and thoughtfulness of it all. They made a competition out of everything and something as innocent as a Valentines Day stuffed animal would be no different. 

  He’s standing in front of the mirror again, same stance as Jake but laced with much more annoyance. “Well then tell me their names.” He snaps his fingers. “Exactly what I thought.” 

  You clear your throat and his eyes widen in the reflection. “Sorry love, forgot to say good morning.” He bounds back over to you, tackling you into the softness of your bed as he kisses your lips softly. You can taste the mint and a hint of something else that says he lost the battle this morning of coffee or tea. 

  “So?” He says against your lips, eyes looking at you expectantly. You cup his face in your palms and tilt your head in silent question. “Which one is your favorite?” 

  “Oh no no no, you know I’m not going to choose.” You squirm out from under him and put the elephant in its rightful place next to the rest. “I love them all equally.” You place a kiss on each one and move to exit the bedroom, as his large hand grabs your wrist throwing you back onto the bed. 

  “That’s fine cariño, we have ways of making you choose.” 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

#pimosfollowercelebration #valentines celebration #valentinesparty #steven grant x female reader #marc spector x fem!reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon boys x reader #moon knight fic #steven grant x f!reader #marc spector fluff

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hear me out.... Steven with a praise kink 👀

You jokingly call him a good boy (because I call him my human golden retriever) and BAM. Confused boner! You take advantage of it and keep teasing him.

(Marc and Jake would never let him live it down, either)

Ijcioajfidi HELP. THIS. AHHH. I’m not sure why chess playing came into my brain. But here we are, reader likes and plays chess and is pretty good at it.

(Side note: in one typo I wrote ‘chestboard’ instead of ‘chessboard’. You just know my subconscious is thinking about Steven’s boobs.)

Good Boy

Steven Grant x F!Reader Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: INSTANT BONER, p in v sex, teasing, swearing, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 2147

_______________________________________

“So, think about how you would stop me.” You said as you looked from the chessboard to Steven. 

His brow was furrowed in concentration, his glasses pushed high on his nose. A few rough curls dangled over his forehead as he bit softly at his thumb in thought. 

“I could move here?” 

“That’s really good.” You smile. “Excellent move, because you’ve also stopped my bishop.” You point to the piece on the board. 

Steven smiled. He liked chess, played against the computer occasionally. But it wasn’t much more than a way to pass the time. 

However when he found out that you had won some amateur competitions when you were in school, and that you still played regularly, his excitement at the prospect of playing a game with you was so completely heart-warming that you instantly said yes. 

In the first game, you’d been determined to go easy on him. Just to get a feel of Steven as a player. You’d accidentally won in less than ten minutes. 

There had been a small tinge of panic, a worry that, like some of the previous partners you’d had, he would be annoyed. Instead Steven grinned, thrilled that you’d beaten him and sung your praises until you were so positively overwhelmed you had had to kiss him repeatedly to get him to stop. 

This was your second game. He had asked in that delightfully enthusiastic way he had if you could play again, “if it’s not too much trouble love, and you want to of course, don’t want to be annoying, do I? No. But I’d love it if you could teach me some strategies?” 

“So I’m going to move here,” you picked up your knight and moved it slowly. 

Steven frowned. “But then I can take it?” 

“I know.” You grinned. 

He paused and looked at you, unable to stop himself from smiling at your glee and then nodded. “Okie dokie, there’s something I’m not seeing then.” 

“Is there?” Your innocent tone didn’t fool him for a second. 

“There definitely is.” 

You chuckled, looking back to the board. “Good boy. Look, take your time, but don’t worry if you can’t find it, I’ll explain.” 

There was a long pause. You frowned a little and glanced back to him. His eyes were a little wide, his cheeks dusted with pink. He was sitting stiffly now, his hand clenched into a fist with his knuckles pressed against his mouth. 

“Steven?”

“Hmm.” The sound was too quick. He didn’t look up from the board.

“You okay?” 

He nodded, a short sharp and very un-Steven-like movement. 

You paused for a second, looking at his features carefully as you wondered if Marc or Jake had fronted suddenly. Though, why they would try to hide it from you, you weren’t sure. 

On further inspection you were pretty sure that it was Steven. 

“You sure you’re okay.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled and swallowed, looking through the board and not seeing it. 

“Okay…” You swallowed, watched him for a moment longer before you pointed at your rook. “If you take my knight, I’m going to take your pawn with my rook and you’ll be in check. You can’t take the rook with your queen because then you’d be in check here. So you’d have to move your king like this, and then I could move my other bishop and you’d be in checkmate.”

You looked up at him, chewing your bottom lip. Had he had enough? Was he bored? Fed up of your explanations? 

“Okay. Right. So I won’t do that, I’ll move here.” He spoke quickly, still not looking at you. 

You nodded, watching his move. “Good, so…”

The moment ‘good’ left your mouth Steven sucked in a breath, shuddering. 

A sound you very much recognised. 

Oh.

You quickly thought over your previous conversion: move this piece, are you okay, take your time, good boy-

Good boy. That was it. 

A small smile stretched across your lips. Steven was still staring, fixated, at the chessboard and didn’t notice. He moved his piece silently. 

You waited a beat before you spoke. “That’s a great move Steven, good boy.” 

He shivered straight away, his breathing hitched. He tried to cover the sound with his hand as he closed his eyes.  

“What’s wrong Steven?” You teased slowly. 

His eyes snapped up to yours, wide and embarrassed. 

“Don’t you like being called a good boy?”

The smallest groan grumbled in his chest, his muscles tensing. 

“Or, is it that you like it a little too much? Hmm? Being my good boy?” 

His skin flushed with heat as he glared at you. His eyes dark. 

“What?” You bit your lip as you grinned. “A good boy would answer questions when asked.” 

“Please.” He whispered.

“Please what?” 

“Please stop. Marc’s taking the piss.” 

You frowned, the playful tease dropping from your tone. “Why’s Marc taking the piss?” You’d done kinker stuff with all of them, Steven liking being called a ‘good boy’ wasn’t really something to write home about. 

Steven sighed, pouting a little as he closed his eyes and took his hand away from his mouth. “Because I’ve got a hard on.” 

You bit back the giggle that wanted to spill from your chest. Something about him having to close his eyes to say it was just so perfect. “So?”

“It happened the second you said it.” 

“The very second?” 

“Hmm.” Steven kept his eyes closed. Interesting.

“So literally, I said it, instant boner.” 

“Yep.”

You couldn’t resist one playful tease. “So, if you’re in a park and you hear some say good boy to their dog, is it bam, erection?”

Steven shifted a little as you said those two words, trying his hardest not to moan. His cock was pressing, painfully hard, against the stiff material of his jeans. “No.”

“No?”

“It’s never happened before. And now- Marc, shut the fuck up.” His voice was a little needy until it came time to address his alter.

“Marc behave.” You said kindly. “So… it’s only ever happened now?”

“Hmm.”

“When I said it?”

“Yeah.”

“What happens when I say it again?” You whispered. 

Steven squirmed a little, even the thought of you saying it getting him hot under the collar. “Feels… nice. Sort of.” He pushed at his throbbing cock with the heel of his hand and opened his eyes, his head slightly drooped. 

“Sort of?” 

“Yeah, like… you know, he jumps to attention every time you say it.” He blinked heavily, his cheeks burning. God, you must think he was a right little freak.

“Good boy.” 

He groaned, unable to stop the sound in time and looked up at you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t nice that you were making fun of him like Marc and… oh. 

Realisation dawned. You were biting your lip and smiling. You liked it. A lot. 

Steven swallowed audibly. 

Slowly you stood and walked around the table to stand beside him. Steven pushed out his chair a little, angling it so that he was facing you. He went to stand but you gently pressed on his shoulder. He followed your command and stayed sitting down, looking up at you with pleading eyes. 

He played at his jumper sleeve nervously as you watched him. His dick hard and pulsating with need, throbbing in time to his heartbeat. 

He swallowed again. “Love-”

“Good boy.” 

He moaned softly, screwing his face up as his cock twitched at your words. 

You bent down quickly, grabbing hold of his cheeks and kissing him deeply. Using his brief surprise to slip your tongue into his mouth and push him back against the chair. 

Steven whimpered against you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders and the back of your neck as you ravaged his mouth and robbed him of his breath.

“Good boy.” You muttered between the kisses, swallowing his hushed whimpers and soft moans. Revelling in the way he pulled you tighter, needy and desperate for anything you’d give him. 

You brushed your hand against his groin, squeezing the outline of his cock. 

“Fuck!” Steven hissed, clawing at your top and thrusting up into your touch. The rest of his words were lost as you kissed him hard and lightly bit his bottom lip. 

You trailed your lips down to his jaw and neck, sucking at his pulse point and pushing him even further back into the seat. 

His breathy moans sent a wave of heat along your spine to your core, twisted in your belly and overwhelmed every thought. 

You squeezed his cock again, the heat of him radiating through your hand. “Good boy.” 

The words barely left your lip before Steven answered you with an accompanying groan, his length twitching against your palm. 

You moaned, so dizzily high with the sounds of his pleasure. Without thinking you undo his belt and unzip his jeans, pulling his trousers and boxers down to his calves in a hurried motion with a little help from Steven as he raises his hips. His cock springs free, needy and weeping with need. 

You take him in hand, stroking him twice before pulling his jumper over his head. He whines at the loss, chasing your mouth and kissing you urgently the second the material is off and on the floor. 

With your lips desperately pressed to his you pull down your own trousers and underwear, kicking one leg free and not bothering about the other as you take his length back in your hand and straddle his thighs. 

Him being so worked up, so desperate for you when you hadn’t even touched him is a stronger aphrodisiac that anything you’d ever experienced.

You don’t even give him a second to react before you’re lining him up with your already soaking entrance and slowly sinking down. “Such a good boy Steven,” you breathe, your voice rising in pitch at the end as he inches deeper, his thick cock splitting you so wide. 

He moans headily, pressing his face into your chest and mouthing at the tops of your breast through your top. 

“Love, you’re so wet.” He bites his bottom hip, his fingers pressing against your waist hard enough to leave bruises. 

You pull at the back of his hair slightly, scratching your nails along his scalp as he finally bottoms out. He pulses within you, twitching and aching and so, so close already. 

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you Steven?” 

He whined against you as you rocked your hips, quickly starting to lift yourself up and sink back down, setting a brutal pace as you began to bounce on his cock.

“Such a good boy letting me use you like this.” 

Steven moaned, chasing your hips and thrusting deep. He was drunk on you, needed you. Every moment, every word you said sent waves of pleasure through his body and made his head spin. 

Even in his intoxicated state his muscle memory kicked in, bucking up into you perfectly to make you see stars. Each spot that would break you apart memorised and stored deep within his very soul. 

He fucked up into you harder, growling with his desperate need. His leg kicked out and caught against the table's edge, rocking the chessboard and knocking pieces over. 

The sound just loud enough to register in his mind. “Sorry, I-“

“Doesn’t matter Steven, please,” you moaned. At this angle the head of him constantly pressed so deep, rubbing consistently over that special spot and not even giving you a chance to breathe. No pause or reprieve from the oncoming onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overtake you. 

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whined, your thighs shaking and thrusts growing sloppy. 

Steven growled, grabbing hold of your hips and pistoning upwards, not allowing your pleasure to dip. “Please, please, please, cum on my cock, please love, please. Tell me I’m your-”

“You’re my good boy.” You came dizzyingly hard, your fingers digging into Steven’s shoulders and leaving marks. 

But he didn’t care. Couldn't care as you squeezed and fluttered around him, moaning ‘good boy’, and shaking as you fell apart in ecstasy. 

Steven gasped, the air catching in his throat, the pleasure so potent it was like his heart stopped. He came deep, hot and thick, his hips still thrusting to prolong your high and to fuck his spend deeper into you. 

You held each other tightly as you recovered, breathing hard, sweat sticking to your skin. It was only then that you pulled off your top and bra, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothing. 

Steven nuzzled into you, softly kissing along your collarbone as you stroked his hair. 

He chuckled suddenly and you moved back every so slightly to look him in the eyes. 

“What?” 

He grinned, dreamy and love sick, up at you. “Marc’s changed his mind. He’d quite like you to call him ‘good boy’ too.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love

If you’d like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x female reader #x female reader #steven grant x f!reader #x f!reader #steven grant x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[moonlight-prose]

✧ BODY PAINT ✧

a/n: i feel like every fic with the moon bois this kinktober is just a little uhinged. probably cause i'm head over heels for them and preparing for fics in november. but i personally want to live in this fic. the title is based of an arctic monkey's song but it's also really obvious in the context of the fic. a massive thank you to @soulores for beta reading this for me babes!

day seven - creampie | kinktober 2023

summary: "his touch brought you to life. that oh so familiar feeling ignited your body in a way that you’d never experienced before."

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, p in v sex, creampie, being hopelessly in love, desperation, cumplay, the title is exactly what this is, steven paints you in...

His touch brought you to life. That oh so familiar feeling ignited your body in a way that you’d never experienced before. His fingers slid along your bare skin, soft and gentle, but you knew they’d shift eventually. The part of him that was firm, slightly rough in just the perfect way, was simmering beneath the surface—waiting for your request. For the way your lips would perfectly form around a beg of his name.

“Pretty,” he mumbled, tracing the curve of your breast in the bra you’d worn for him tonight.

Your lips quirked up, eyes catching his as you writhed beneath his hand, wanting more than he would give you. This wasn’t unusual. At least not for the two of you. Steven was the man who would give and give until you were begging for him to take—for it to be your turn to give. And that’s how you would wind up here. Panting beneath him as he built you up until you were nearly gone.

“Touch me,” you gasped, hips bucking up into his—the heaviness of his cock pressing against your thigh made your mouth water.

His lips pulled up into a sincere grin. “I am touching you love.”

“No—” His fingers pulled at your nipple through the fabric and your head fell back. The breath being ripped from your chest.

“What do you want?”

You slung your leg over his bare hip, the slick that practically soaked through your panties no doubt coating his skin as he lay atop you. While he was busy taking his time, you knew that he was on the very brink. Going just as insane as you were. He grunted against your throat when your hips canted up again, grinding against his cock.

The sticky feeling of his precum coated the top of your thigh. He was leaking for you, begging you without words, and that was the final thing that broke you. Digging your hand into his curls you brought his lips to yours, moaning when his tongue slid perfectly against yours. Steven tasted like that singular emotion you could never grasp onto before him. You wanted to call it love, and you’d be right to say it. But there was something more there.

A feeling you’d never believed could have existed.

Some would call it obsession, but you knew they’d be wrong to assume.

“F-fuck,” he gasped, grinding into you as his hand kneaded your breast, lips trailing down your jaw.

“Want you inside me baby,” you whimpered.

His head shot up, eyes drinking in the desperation painted clear across your face—your eyes shimmering with it. Pressing his lips against yours, he worked to push your panties to the side, sliding his cock through your slick. A ragged sound tore from his chest when he felt the wet slide of your pussy against his leaking cock—how you were already so ready for him. You wanted to wrap yourself around him, dig your way into his chest and burrow so deep he would never be able to get you out. But that’s the thing about Steven.

He’d let you stay. Happily.

“You’re so wet,” he marveled, your spit trailing along his bottom lip when he pressed himself at your entrance, his eyes nearly rolling back when he began to sink into you. “Oh fuck love.”

Your mouth dropped open, nails digging into his back at the feeling of him stretching you. The slight sting of pain mixing with the pleasure that struck you like a bolt of lightning. A garbled sob echoed in the room, your head tipping back into the pillow and body pressing into him even further. If you could live in this moment forever, you would. The thrum of your heartbeat quick and erratic, your head fuzzy as he thrusted into you until his hips met yours.

“S-Steven—”

“I’m here,” he gasped, his hand blindly searching for yours. “Gonna—ah—take care of you.”

Originally he wanted to take his time, watch you break beneath his soft touches and gentle kisses. But there was an impatience to both of you tonight. Something tantalizing that tore through every layer of patience you might have had—shoving forward the desire that burned through both of you. You wanted him to take, to chase that feeling that built up in both of you, and Steven was more than happy to comply.

His tongue slid along yours, hand pressing yours into the mattress when he started moving. Thrusting into at a pace that only stoked the fire—driving you higher with each shove of his hips into yours. He moaned, the sound broken and fragmented as he only sped up his movements. Driving into you with a force that had your toes curling; the breath catching in your lungs.

“So good,” he mumbled, biting down lightly on your bottom lip—his brows pulled tight as he staved off the building pressure in his body.

Meeting his thrusts with short movements of your own, you felt his body shudder. The strength he had in his arms now wavering as he felt your pussy clamp down around him. The wet heat of you was too much—addictive in the best possible way. And he wanted more. He wanted to see himself drip out of you—wanted to smear you in him. Paint you until you were exactly how he saw you. The most priceless piece of art in a museum.

“Want to cum in you.”

You gasped, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock. “Yeah?”

He nodded frantically, his fingers digging into your hip. “Wanna—hng—drip out of you. Paint you in me.”

That indescribable feeling pulled at your chest, wrapping you in its heat and you chased it. Urged him on with the soft begging that he loved to hear. Whimpers of please baby, please give it to me were pressed to his jaw, your body floating so high you were afraid you’d never come back down.

“Let me feel it,” you breathed, wrapping your legs around his hips so tight he could barely pull out.

A sound tore from his chest, his body tense as he fought against finishing. But you could see the pure want in his eyes. The need that rose to the surface as he looked at you—traced the curve of your face and lips. He wouldn’t last that much longer, but you knew Steven refused to finish before you. It was like his personal rule. Yet you also understood what you needed more than anything else.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached down in between your bodies—fingers curling around his balls. A choked sound escaped his throat, his eyes slamming shut as you tugged on him gently—shoving him (and you) off the edge within seconds. He cried out, his cock slamming into you so deep it pressed right where you needed when he came. Spurting into you with a ragged gasp of air, his body pressing you fully into the mattress—nearly shoving the breath from your lungs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he gasped, your name tumbling from his swollen lips.

But you could barely hear him. Your pussy fluttered around him, body shaking as that burning flame sucked you under. Moaning his name softly, you felt him keep going—thrusting into you at the perfect angle to prolong your release. To keep you right there.

You couldn’t be sure how long you lay there, catching your breath as he softened inside of you, his cock twitching every now and then. But then you felt it. His fingers dipping down to where you were spread on his cock, his cum leaking out and dripping down your inner thighs. He smeared it on his fingers, grazing your clit as he moved and dragging another moan from your chest.

“Stay still,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck as he pressed his sticky and shiny fingers to your chest. “I meant it, love.”

Heat spilled into your stomach, eyes tracing the trail his fingers left behind. A shiny slickness of your combined releases. You felt your mouth water—eyes heavy lidded and still cloudy with lust. Steven was ever the man of his word. This was no exception as he slid his fingers back down, pressed into you right along his cock, filling you even further. All to gather that sinful combination and spread it along your skin.

To paint you in it.

#steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #my writing #kinktober 2023

[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

“i’m never more at peace than i am in your arms.” with Steven Grant

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Word Count: 887

A/N: Just opened up my askbox for some requests!

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, poorly-edited

The service had been a lovely one. The reception even lovelier. 

The reception is even lovelier. 

Having stepped outside of the venue and into the cooled heat of the summer night for a moment’s rest from the festivities, you feel as if it was all a memory, a misfiring of neurons that made you believe that the day had truly happened. 

You’re tired, tuckered out. The type that only comes from not eating enough and feeling too much. 

Your bones ache, there’s a film of something stuck to your skin and inside your lungs. You’ve spent too much of the day outside, with too many people you’d spend at most an hour with. 

A grating static is littered like chalk dust inside your mind. The more you try to wipe it away the worse it gets. 

A rumble of laughter flows out from the open window, and it goes straight to your head in the worst of ways. 

It’s a horrid combination of too many things that, each one in moderation, would be alright to handle but put together like this are too much at once. 

You’re oversaturated. 

There’s an increase and decrease in noise as the door opens and closes, the bit of a drag on the second step that lets you know that everything is going to be alright, that you no longer need to struggle to keep the cracking mask on. 

“Hiya love,” his voice is warm, like the sun. “Everything alright? Lost each other in there, didn’t we? For a bit.” His arm comes to curl around your waist, he pulls you close to him. 

Everything is alright now. 

Guilt crawls up your throat at the poorly-hidden worry in his voice, “Sorry about that.” He’s wearing the cologne you got him for Valentine’s three years ago. He’s on his second bottle now. “Didn’t mean to run off.” 

“Well you didn’t go very far,” Steven shrugs. The movement against your own body is a redemption in itself. There’s a purr of laughter around his voice, “If anything I’d say it was a piss-poor attempt at running off.” 

You smile and laugh, breathing coming to you a little bit easier now that his body is warming yours up, now that it’s just the two of you again. “Didn’t take you long to find me.” 

He shrugs again. You suppose there isn’t an answer to that anyways, the pull between you and Steven inexplicable, though entirely tangible to the both of you. 

“You feelin’ alright, though, dearie? Somethin’ on your mind?” His free hand presses against your forehead, the side of your face. There’s a dimple between his eyebrows. 

You turn and look up at him, pressing the length of your body into his side. Even the rub of the fabric of his pants against your skin is enough, the truth of his own skin underneath shining through it all like seaglass. 

You know for a fact there’s a dopey grin on your face. Your arms come to circle around his neck like Saturn’s rings, your fingers come to play with the ends of his hair, “Just you.” 

“You wanna go home? Really, I wouldn’t mind, the band was gettin’ a bit on my nerves if I’m being honest,” he turns away for a moment, his voice dropping to a grumbling tone like it always does when he complains. “Don’t know what kinda stick that trumpeter's got up his arse but he’d be doing us all a good favour if he took it out and threw it far, far-.” 

“Steven,” your voice isn’t harsh, a gentle callback to the moment between you two that existed free of any trumpets. “I’m alright now,” you cup his cheek, gaze into the coffee cups of his eyes. He’s more concerned than you initially took it for, his light-hearted teasing a paper-thin veil. “Just needed a breather.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna go? It’ll be much nicer at home, Gus’ll be there n’all.” 

Steven loves live music, despite his complaints. He’s notorious for being the life of the dance floor whenever you two go out, and his eyes are still twinkling, the need to dance still present in his soul like a blossoming tulip. 

“I'm never more at peace than when I’m in your arms…when I’m with you,” you smile, trace the ridges and grooves of his nose, press your thumb into the prominent pockmark on his left cheek, right above his mouth. “Thanks for coming and finding me.” 

“‘Course honey, ‘course,” he swallows, tightens his grip on you a little. “You really wanna stay?” 

You nod, “I think I’ve got an hour or two left in me.”

He doesn’t stray from your side once after that, sweat dampening his forehead as he spins and spins to the music he seemingly hated. In something beyond your soul, his presence is steady and quiet like a rusted anchor.  

Steven’s hand is warm and soothing in yours, his voice hoarse and scratched an hour later, after you’ve said your goodbyes and are heading out. 

Your feet ache a little. For some reason, the nails of your hands are throbbing. Your soul is calm, soothed. 

As always, all you really needed was Steven. 

And Steven always came to you.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here, requests here.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x female!reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant angst #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant fic #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant imagine #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight imagine #moon knight fic #oscar isaac #i really struggled here too bc i haven't written steven in such a long time and im scared that it shows #trying to remind myself that this is a hobby #that there are published authors that write worse than me #that this is my blog and if i wanna post shitty writing then ill post shitty writing please and thank you

[inklore]

apparitions.

premise: you don’t know how this came to be; steven fucking you in front of a mirror. your body and pleasure showcased to marc, to prove a point, to show him steven knows best.

pairing: steven grant x (f)reader

word count: 839

warnings: minors dni please, marc x reader are mentioned and alluded in here but not shown, unprotected sex, literally just smut, dom!steven, teasing, voyeurism in a sense.

etc: this is based on this and this ask, i kind of strayed from the initial idea since i plan on writing a version of this, but not quite the same, with marc and other oscar characters, but me writing steven as a dom? shocking i know lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

“Does he do it better than me?” Steven hums, you’ve never heard his voice so deeply coated with jealousy and lust. The dynamic the three of you had was always so well laid out, who spent this time with you one day, or that time another day. Sometimes both of them at once. There had never been any fighting over you, over the moments shared with one of the other. It was an equal playing ground, you adored them both the same as they loved you the same.

Competition didn’t fit into the cracks of this unique relationship, and yet it was somehow showing it’s childish head right now.

Peering from around a corner with a sinister smirk as your palm dug into the edge of the mirror, Steven’s hand moving between your thighs as the pad of his finger rubbed circles against your clit; heavy pants mixed with moans spilling from your mouth, Steven’s dirty words making you clench around his thickness as it fucked up into you.

Your lids feel heavy, the exhaustion of being toyed with and fucked for what feels like hours—all in the means of proving a point—seeping into you bone deep. Steven’s other arm having to hold up your waist to prevent you from falling forward; and just letting him use you.

His reflection shows blown out pupils tainted with determination of sexual prowess. Sometimes a smirk will cross his lips and you know Marc must have said something, must be toying with him—with both of you.

“Tell me, love.” Steven grunts against your ear, “can he fuck you this good? You’re so wet for me, grippin’ me so tight.”

You don’t know how, or why, this came to be; Steven fucking you in front of a mirror. Your entire naked body on display in front of it as he pounds into you, your chest heaving, a sheen of sweat coating your breasts and abdomen as he makes you come for the third time tonight. Part of you wants to feel annoyance or some kind of begrudging feeling at both men using you as some dick swinging contest, but it’s hard to do when Steven feels so good inside of you. When each thrust of his hips hitting your ass coats his filthy words to you—and Marc—so ridiculously obscene, how you can hear the wet noises of his cock merge with your pitiful moans as he uses you, plays with you, toys with you; it’s hard to feel anything other than this, to think about anything other than Steven.

Marc being an afterthought. Only remembered when Steven prompts you again: “thinks he knows your body, how to please you, you were mine first, he wouldn’t know how to touch you if it wasn’t for me. gotta show him how to fuck you right.”

“Steven,” you moan, body leaning back into his until he makes a disapproving sound and is straightening you back up.

“Don’t move, love. Marc needs to see you, needs to watch my fingers play with this perfect pussy of yours. How else will he learn?” You catch a glimpse of Steven’s smirk—at Marc—before your eyes are shutting in ecstasy, the building pleasure of the fingers against your clit, the cock inside of you, and how filthy and needy you must look like right now to Marc all bringing you closer and closer to coming again.

Both boys had a way of mixing pleasure and torture so good that you felt devilish with how bad you wanted them both. How bad you wanted to be face down and ass up for Marc, or spread out atop Steven’s desk for him. Steven had you first but now you belonged to both of them. You were addicted to both of them. Loved fucking both of them. Your mind can’t wrap itself around choosing which one fucks better, which one makes you come harder. They both leave you breathless and throbbing to the point of exhaustion.

But you will gladly let them use you for these silly little games again. Will happily let Steven showcase you in front of a mirror for Marc’s eyes, for him to be envious of; the image of how deeply torn with sexual desire and need he must look like right now makes a shuttering gasp catch in your lungs.

“Tell him how good it feels, tell him you’re mine.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, his eyes shifting from yours to the other side of the mirror. Steven’s saying something but it’s not to you, it’s cocky and sneering and clipped at the end with a deep groan as your cunt clenches harder around him.

“I’m–fuck,” you’re almost there, so close. You can barely keep your neck upright, your eyes barely open.

His lips are pressed to your ear, his pants sending shivers down your spine, “it’s killing him not being able to touch you.” Steven’s fingers pick up speed on your clit, his cock following suit. “Come on my cock love, give Marc a show, yeah?”

#steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #steven grant one shot #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant fics #steven grant fic #moon knight one shot #moon knight fic #moon knight fics #steven grant fanfic #**