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madlittlecriminal · 10 months

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Fixing Mistakes ☾ Steven Grant × Female!Reader

Request: no, but they're open for everyone i write for :)

Warnings: donna being donna, marc pops up at the end

note: this has been done a few times before, so im sorry. i just like the idea

credits to @missdictatorme since her fic titled The Shades of the Moon is about steven getting the job as a tour guide. it is smut, so don't read it unless you're 18+

He was nervous to say the least. Donna said the new owner of the museum was making an appearance since she wanted to help them with their employees. He asked Donna about it, and she shrugged. "Might lose your job, Stevie."

So here he was, a nervous wreck while cashing out a customer. Yeah, he wasn't going to lie, as much as he didn't like working in the giftshop, he did like working at the museum. Sadly, he knew that if what Donna said was true, it was because of the number of times he was late. Then it hit him.

Wasn't the owner a man?

He shook his head and began organizing the small figures of the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses when the sound of heels made him confused as he knew one of them were Donna's, but the other was different. "Stevie! This is (Y/N). Her grandfather left her the museum after he passed away." You held your hand out while glancing at his nametag and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Steven." He took your hand and shook it, feeling his heart race at the sight of you.

Hathor blessed you with beauty, there was no denying that.

You broke the handshake and scan the giftshop. When your eyes fell on the stuffed Taweret, you made a mental note to buy it before leaving. She was honestly too adorable, and you didn't care that they were meant for children. "So, I read through your file and saw that Donna here wrote a little note saying that you wanted to be a tour guide?" He gulped before nodding his head. "Yes, I still do actually." You nodded. "Donna, can you give us a minute alone? Meet me in your office." She left and you look over at Steven. While he did sport dark circles under his eyes and baggy clothing, you thought he was handsome.

"So, it's no secret that you're late. A lot. Can you explain that to me?" You grab one of the plushies and bite your lip to hide your smile. "I-I have a sleeping disorder," Steven let his eyes wander a bit, checking you out before snapping out of it quickly. You hummed at his response before looking back at him, your eyes meeting his dark brown ones. "I trust there's a reason you want to be a tour guide and I know Donna doesn't want you to have it because you hardly come on time, but can I ask why you want to be a tour guide?"

He went ahead and ranted about Egypt, telling you everything that fascinated him which left you speechless. "It's just amazing!" You smiled at him. "I love that you know so much about it, Steven, I do. I can't give you the position though because of your tardiness, you know that right?" The smile on his face faded. "Y-yeah, I know."

"However, can you tell me why Donna calls you Stevie? You two don't seem close for her to give you a nickname, right?" He snorted. "She isn't great with names." You tilt your head to the side. "Steven, J.B calls you Scotty. I would get him not being good with names because he was playing a game on his phone when I walked in. Gave him a warning and told Donna she had to be on top of him for that. You work at the giftshop, and she makes you do inventory with her. How does she not know your name? Haven't you corrected her?" He nodded.

"She's just ignorant then?" He looked down and you sighed. "You know I can't have someone like that working here. I know she wants me to fire you, but honestly, I think you can try being on time more than she could be less ignorant." He chuckled at your words and nodded. "I need you to do something for me though before I tell Donna the news of her termination." HIs eyes widened at your words as you placed the plushie on the counter. "Can you ring me out and maybe try to be on time for, let's say...a week? If so, I'll think about that promotion for you." You sent him a wink, causing him to gasp and nod frantically. "I would love that! Thank you, (Y/N)!" You grin as he handed you the plush along with the receipt after cashing you out.

"No problem, but please don't make me regret this, okay?" He ran out from behind the counter and hugged you. You were surprised, but ultimately decided to hug him back...oh man, these baggy clothes did absolutely nothing but hide the fact that he had muscles. "Thank you thank you thank you." You chuckle before pulling back from the hug with Steven and hugging Taweret. "Just please promise me you'll make the effort to come on time. You'd be a perfect addition to the tour guides." With that, you left the giftshop, making Steven fist pump the air. "Honestly, she's 1,000 times better than Donna. I'll try to make sure you get up on time for now on, okay buddy?" Steven looked at the glass counter and raised a brow at his reflection. "I think we both know she's gorgeous, mate. Do you think she'd be interested?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, buddy. I like your suggestion, but patience is a virtue."

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant x y/n #moon knight #moon knight x reader #mister knight #marvel #mcu #marvel universe

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extraordinary-heroes · 7 months

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Moon Knight: City of the Dead #5 (Cover art by Rod Reis)

#moon knight #rod reis #mister knight #konshu #marvel comics #textless cover art #superheroes #artwork #illustration

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traveller-of-the-knight · 10 months

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heckcareoxytwit · 4 months

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A preview of Avengers Inc #4

AVENGERS INC #4

GO FOR THE JUGGLER! Her name is Janet Van Dyne. She’s got a file on the Death Throws—a worker’s co-operative for themed super villains—that’s taller than she is. His name is Victor Shade. Apparently, he’s been a member for years. Together, they’ve got to find out who’s picking the Death Throws off one by one…before it’s his turn. PLUS, IN HIS VERY LAST GUEST APPEARANCE PRIOR TO HIS DEMISE, MOON KNIGHT!

Written by: Al Ewing Art by: Leonard Kirk, Alex Sinclair Cover by: Daniel Acuña Page Count: 28 Pages Release Date: December 27, 2023

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lacebird · 2 years

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𝐦 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫 𝐤 𝐧 𝐢 𝐠 𝐡 𝐭

#moon knight #moonknightedit #mister knight #mr knight #steven grant #marc spector #oscar isaac #userthing #usersource #paleedit #fadenet #mcuedit #marveledit #usercreate #palenet #mine #edits #i want him to destroy me holy fcking shit holy f #like why didn't we get mr knight suit with the eyes showing because fffffffff hnnnn nnfghhhgffgfhghhnh his e y e s

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drempen · 2 years

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There are some drawbacks to wearing all white

#moon knight #moon knight fanart #mr knight #mister knight #my art #comicart #marvel #marvel fanart #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #tw blood

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ev-pierce-writes · 2 years

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Mister Knight

Pairing: Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.4k

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Presumably post-fight Steven needs a little medical attention and a little love as well.

Warnings: oral (I mean....come on). p in v. this is very tame. so tame. sorry. primarily steven being in love with you so if you don't like love (who hurt you?) and you came here for other stuff... we get to it eventually.

AN: I am in love with Steven Grant. I would die for him. I imagine he is a little lost. Please, someone, teach this man how to kiss properly. Also, apologies for disappearing for a while. I happen to be a very stressed very busy very perfectionist aka procrastinating student. I am working on other things. Those other things being a novel and a PhD thesis proposal at the same time. This is my cry for help. Anyway, enjoy.

---

“Stop moving so much.”

Steven hisses in pain. “It hurts. You’re hurting me.”

“Well, you wouldn’t let me take you to a hospital, so this is what you get,” you reply, dabbing at the split across his nose with a cotton ball dipped in rubbing alcohol.

“No, Marc wouldn’t let you take us to a hospital. Don’t blame it on me.”

“This is the last one. Just sit still for one more moment.”

You smooth a plaster over the bridge of his nose as he looks up at your face from his chair. You’ve convinced him to sit long enough for you to stand over him and care for his wounds, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off your face for one moment, not even when they narrowed at the pain, his nose scrunching up at your touch. Like this, he looks diminutive; like this, you know he loves you, even if Marc has trouble saying so.

Steven says it with his whole body, not just his eyes. He’s always leaning toward you, unconsciously into your touch, nearly stumbling over his own feet or sliding right out of his chair. His smile is lopsided, a grin that widens when you laugh and catches your eye from across the room just to make sure you’re having a good time. Steven looks like Marc, and feels like him, mostly, but hunches his shoulders and wrings his hands when he’s nervous. You know he loves you because he lets you hold those hands that he seems so afraid of.

He lets you use those hands. In the shower, you guide his fingers between your legs and into the warmth of your cunt. In bed you grind against the heel of his hand or let them grope you in the dark, placing them on your chest and telling them with your own to squeeze.

Steven is shy. He’s nervous. He wants to touch you so badly it aches but he’s more afraid to do it wrong than he is excited to do it right. At first it was a game of teaching him what to do, now it’s a game of teasing the sensitive man until he’s so devoured by need it overcomes his fear of doing it improperly. You like Steven when he throws caution to the wind, when he loses all sense of correct and incorrect and does what makes him feel good.

But you can’t help but be gentle with the man. Dropping the last bloodied cotton ball on the table, you lift his chin with a finger and give the end of his nose a kiss. The hand of his that rests on his knee, that gripped it tightly through the pain, barely moves, just shifting enough so his fingers brush against the outside of the thigh you have placed between his. It’s absentminded but timid, the farthest his unconscious mind is willing to go without some encouragement.

“I should go,” you say. In reality, you have no reason to go. Tomorrow’s your day off work. The cat has been fed and she couldn’t care less about your presence or absence from the flat. But you want Steven to ask you to stay. You like when he hesitates until the last moment, battling his inner desire with his nervousness, until you’ve collected your purse and have your hand on the doorknob. Every time he makes some new excuse—"it's too late for you to take the bus” or “you’ve had a few drinks, you shouldn’t be walking home alone”—and every time you give in. You know before he asks that you’ll give in.

You don’t really pay attention to tonight’s excuse—something about a morning coffee—as you’re already shutting the door and dropping your purse to the ground again. At this point, you should just move in together, but Steven doesn’t have the guts to ask, and you’re too reluctant to give up this flirting game. You’re afraid the relationship will lose its magic if you do.

It’s a silly fear. If anything, it’ll give you more opportunities to tease him. Maybe it’s the finality of it that scares you most.

Steven lends you a t-shirt, a soft, salmon pink v-neck that was probably bought by Marc, and heads to the washroom while you change. It’s pointed. He’s still too shy to openly watch you get naked. The one time he walked in on you showering he’d apologized for a week.

But it’s the little things, you notice, that he likes best. When you nudge him aside at the sink so you can brush your teeth next to him (you even have a toothbrush at his place for God’s sake), his gaze drops to your breasts in the mirror, like he’s forgotten you can see him in the reflection staring at your nipples beneath the shirt. His methodical brushing slows when you lean against the sink, one hip cocked to the side, your underwear peeking out from beneath the hem, and bare legs crossing in an attempt at a casual manner. Steven does that absentminded thing with his fingers again, brushing them now, lightly, against your bare thigh in a moment of fascination.

Then he recovers his countenance and rushes from the washroom to lay in bed. Steven won’t sleep, at least not much, but you don’t mind. You can fill his restless nights with other things.

He’s fussing at a Rubik’s cube as you emerge from the washroom, solving it and then immediately spinning the faces around afterwards to jumble it all up again, eyes flitting between the colored dots and your figure. You once asked him to teach you how to do it, but it was a process you didn’t have the patience to learn.

“Come, get under the covers,” you say, tugging at the sheet until he wiggles awkwardly beneath it. But it’s enough to drag his attention away from the silly cube and onto you, curling up beside him. His fluttering touch is just a little braver in the dark, a little more solid, a little more roving. It starts on the back of your knee, drawing circles until his fingers meander between your thighs and press into the smooth skin they find there. Without knowing it, Steven has you soaking what was a clean pair of underwear. He doesn’t put any intention behind it, the way he didn’t intend to make contact with your skin while seated at the kitchen table or in front of the bathroom sink. He is only following the path his fingers like best, instinct and subconscious and a little bit of Marc as their guide.

This is how it starts, absentminded, leisurely, hesitant.

Steven’s fingers dance around your backside and across your stomach. You roll away, onto your back, and his body follows, mirroring, matching, leaning forward and over you. His touch chases his gaze, pointer finger dragging over the clothed nipple he gazed at through your reflection. It pebbles beneath his circling finger, and he watches, fascinated, like your body is a mystery to be explored, new each time he sees it. Every night together seems like the first with Steven. He is good, now—oh God, too good—but he hasn’t lost that first-time captivation. You let him explore, let him test and appraise and investigate the physiological changes that overcome you in response to his attention, the quickening heart rate, the shallow breath, the hooded eyes. Your gaze stays on his face, watching the watcher.

Steven takes his job seriously. He hasn’t even reached beneath your shirt—his shirt—to feel your bare skin, simply palms your breast through the soft fabric, squeezing, pinching between forefinger and thumb, rolling. He is archaeologist, discovering, uncovering; he is anthropologist, analyzing, studying. You shudder—it is too much and not enough all at the same time, overwhelming, excruciating, addicting, longing—and he shudders as well, breath stuttering in time with your heart.

“Steven,” you breath his name. He whispers yours in return. You drag him into a kiss because perhaps he can take it a bit longer, but you cannot. It’s still slow, one kiss after another with a pause for breath between each, but at least he understands your need. You realize that maybe he’s not the one overcome with teased out longing. It’s you.

You reach blindly in the moonlight of the flat’s narrow windows, find his hip, then the bulge in his thick sweatpants. You’re not so meandering as him, instead finding quickly the span of his cock and running your nails up the length of it. It twitches and he groans against your mouth.

“Yeah? Like that?” you nearly whimper, lips mere centimeters from his. “Want me to do it again?”

If his half-shut eyes are any indication, then yes, he does. But he manages a nod as well and you repeat the motion, down with your nails and back up again. Steven’s brain has shut down, propped up beside you on one elbow, fingers rolling at your nipple, forehead pressed to yours. You tug at the tie of his sweatpants, tugging it loose so you can slip your hand past the waist band.

“You want me to touch you, Steven?” you whisper, and he gulps out a yes, fuck yes with an uneven breath. His cock is thick and hot beneath your touch, the head swollen and sensitive. There is an ache between your thighs triggered by the remembrance of just how thick he is, an ache relieved only by him. It’s not a race to have him inside you but you wish it was. You smear a bead of precum down his shaft, taking care to learn every pulsing vein with the memory of your touch. Steven kisses you again as his hips jerk, bucking towards your hand in an involuntary movement to be even closer, to find friction.

You work him under his sweatpants. He works his way down your stomach back toward your thighs. You don’t even wait for him to get there, just spread your legs in anticipation. It hasn’t got the smooth confidence of practice, the way he drags the thin strip of lace to the side and finds your clit, but it is full of wonder and admiration, that touch. It finds the heat of your arousal and he glances down between kisses to take in the sight of his fingers gathering the sweet stickiness and dragging it through your folds.

Steven watches as his fingers sink into your cunt, his thumb pressed against your clit. Its slower than you want—need—to get off, but this is how Steven rolls. Marc is the fast one, the hard one, loving but always approaching a breaking point. Steven does not break. He is the calm, the reassurance, the steadiness.

He also doesn’t last long, and he drags his hips away from your hand because he can’t find the words to say he’d rather come between your thighs than in your hand. You don’t want to stop touching him. You like the reassuring weight of him in your palm. But Steven wants to taste you, devour you, and you can’t deny the poor man his dessert. That instinct comes into play, the same instinct that dragged his hand against your backside and made you slick with a simple touch. Marc doesn’t like to share details—when you’re his, you’re his alone—but this, this he did share, your sensitivity, your weakness.

The sheet has gone…somewhere. You’re not sure where. There’s a chill in the air that you feel most against your cunt, amplified by the stickiness of your arousal. It is pleasantly replaced by the heat of a flat tongue and sharp nose, the former dragging through your folds, the latter pressed against your clit. But it’s the hand on your stomach and the addition of two fingers sinking, curling, as he works your clit that warms you from the inside out. That’s the detail Marc shared, the trick that surprised you the first time Steven used it, that rolls your orgasm from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

Now it does feel like a race. Steven is dragging the aftershocks from your body—he likes when your back arches from the mattress involuntarily and your thighs twitch and squeeze his head—but now, for you, it’s urgent, that race to have his cock buried in your cunt. You push Steven’s sweats down with your feet at his hips and at last, he helps you, the head of his cock still flushed pink and glistening from your earlier attentions. You both scramble in the twisted sheet, finally tossing it to the floor along with the rest of your clothes. It’s stumbling, this urgency, awkward and unrehearsed. It’s never like this with Marc; he always knows what to do, how to do it, moving you into place and position. That’s nice, but this is nice too, the way you can’t move fast enough but the harder you try the harder it gets, your arms tangled in tugging off your shirt. When it's gone, Steven's face is pressed to your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin and asking for permission while you tug less than gently at his curls. Your hips jerk and your legs wrap around the backs of his with impatience, but he has to hear you say it.

"For Christ's sake Steven, fuck me with your cock or I'll suffocate you with my tits."

"Doesn't sound like a bad deal," he says but it works because he presses his cock into you smooth and fast before he comes at your words alone. You choke.

What was a rushed moment has suddenly come to a standstill. Steven sighs in relief when he sinks into you, the warmth of your cunt pulling him in. But you cannot breathe, though your lungs and your head and your heart burn with need. It is so right, it is all things perfect, being filled by him. That emptiness, which felt so urgent a moment ago, completed with a self-satisfied groan.

"You alright love?" he says, worried something's wrong like he always does.

And then your soul rushes back into your body and you practically beg him to move, beg him to fuck you because you need to be one with this fiercely gentle man.

"I got you," he says, barely pulling out. His eyes find yours as you pull him back in, your nails up his back and tugging at his hair. There’s a desperation in his voice as he whispers—to you, to himself—but he never loses his composure. Not like Marc does. Not like—

No. Steven is reverent.

“Look at you—” He stutters over his words. “Fuck—you’re pretty, love. I love—I love you.”

There's a knot in your belly, pulling tighter and tighter. And then the heal of one hand is back on your lower stomach, fingers brushing over your clit, and the knot unravels.

“I love you too.”

He smiles that lopsided smile and then kisses you as he comes, his lips and his body and his cock all impossibly hot on and around and inside you. His heat penetrates your skin and sinks into your bones and yet somehow you shiver. It’s probably the way he’s looking at you.

“Cold?”

You shake your head.

“Yeah, well I am,” Steven says and pulls the sheet back on the bed. Its mangled and doesn’t cover you properly but he’s so earnest about it you giggle. And then you wrap your legs around him and hold him there, trap his throbbing cock inside you because you can’t let go of the warmth just yet.

“Don’t go,” someone says. It could be you or him at this point because both of you are thinking it.

“I won’t.”

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #mister knight #moon knight x you #i imagine steven crushes really hard #like obsessively except he can't do a goshdarn thing about it #steven grant is my husband thank you very much

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whoisstorm · 1 year

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Ma lovely boys

#moon knight #mister knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marvel #Illustration #fanart #marc spector & steven grant

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lazymonth · 1 year

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the knight and the devil 🌙😈

#moon knight #marc spector #mister knight #steven grant #daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #spider sona #doodle #procreate #procreateart #drawing #procreatedrawing

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morgan-reads-comics · 1 month

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Moon Knight #6 (2021)

#comics #marvel comics #marvel #marvel unlimited #moon knight #marc spector moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #mister knight #mr knight

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avery-av-raw · 4 months

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Smile, Moony

Wade takes a photo for mmemory 📸🎄

#marvel #marvel comics #moon knight #mister knight #steven grant #marc spector #deadpool #wade wilson #art #my art #fanart #xmas

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madlittlecriminal · 10 months

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Steven virgin anon here :) I thought about the same scenario so virgin reader with Steven but all of the other versions sound great too so just write whatever you find the most inspiring ;)

Blame the Glasses ☾ Steven Grant × Virgin!Female!Reader

Warnings: one mention of jake, steven with glasses deserves a warning, smut, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, aftercare

Steven knew before you told him, but that was simply because of the way you reacted the one time he rested his hand on your thigh before kissing you about two months; you were a stuttering mess and that's how he was four years ago.

Now here you were, three years of friendship and out of the three, you have one year as a couple.

So, when you told him last month, he told you it was fine and there was nothing to worry about or be ashamed of and that he suspected it before you told him. However, he would be lying if he said he never thought about being your first because the thought crossed his mind once or twice after a heated make out session.

Tonight was different though and Steven felt it.

You sat on his desk chair eating a bowl of grapes while Steven sat on his bed with his glasses on, reading an Egyptian retelling to you. You couldn't lie though, the glasses made him unexplainably attractive...well, more than he already was in your eyes. You cleared your throat, trying to distract yourself from your boyfriend, but failed as he stopped reading and looking over at you, concern in his eyes. "You alright, love?" You nodded, but he didn't seem convinced as he got up and walked over to you. "What's the matter?" You looked away from him, but he took your chin into his fingers, gently making you look at him. "Love-"

You took off his glasses and took a deep breath, causing him to be confused. However, when he saw how quickly your chest rose and fell, he chuckled. "Oh, I see," you gulped, and he planted a kiss on your nose. "No worries, love. I'm not judging you." Steven made his way back to his bed and you let out a small whimper, shocking the both of you. You put the bowl on his desk and made your way to his bed, lying next to him. "So, you're just going to tease me like that?" He shrugged, reaching over to put his book on the shelf behind him. "Did you want a kiss, little dove?" You nodded and he smiled before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, causing you to kiss back.

Before you knew it, the kiss became heated with Steven pulling you on his lap and your hands tugging his already messy curls. He broke the kiss, letting you both catch your breaths in the process. "I don't want to rush you, love. We can stop." You shake your head as you felt his bulge from under his sweats. You could feel how soaked you were from that along with the thought of him wearing glasses and make out session you both just had. "I trust you, Steven."

"Are you sure, darling?" You nodded before planting a kiss on his forehead. "Yes," he gently pushed you down on the bed before he climbed on top of you and peppered kisses on your face. You let out a soft giggle and he smiled before going down and kissing your neck. You bite your lip, mindlessly grinding your hips up against Steven. He trailed his hands down your sides, but stopping when he grabbed on the hem of your shirt. He searched your face for approval and when you nodded, he lifted the shirt and took it off of you. He bit his lip a the sight of you before you reached behind you and unclasped your bra from him and slid it down your arms.

"Darling, you're beautiful." You blushed at his words before he went down and kissed each breast before pressing his lips on yours. You kissed him back while reaching for the hem of his sweater and taking it off of him. Your eyes locked on his dark brown ones, and he smiled. "We can stop whenever you want, love." You shake your head. "I don't want to. Not now." He nodded and reached down to take off your sweats. Once they were off, he let began leaving a trail of kisses on your thigh, stopping before he can get to your clothed core. You whimper softly and Steven hums. He slides his fingers through the waistband of your panties before looking at you, asking you for approval. When you nod, he takes them off and he groans at the sight. "You're dripping, darling,"

He cautiously lets his middle finger go up your folds, causing you to moan. Steven presses a kiss on your thigh before using his tongue to replace his finger. You grip the sheets, moaning his name as he slowly begins sucking your clit. Your free hand flies to his curls and you tug on them, gaining a moan from Steven. The vibration courses through your body, making you arch your back and squeeze your thighs around his face. If this is what just his mouth could do, you couldn't imagine what his cock could do to you. Just the thought alone made you more aroused and Steven felt it as he let his tongue slide into you. "Fuck Steven!"

As patient as he was, he couldn't hold it anymore.

He removed his mouth from you before going up and caging you under him. His mouth and chin glistened with your arousal, causing you to bite your lip. His lips met yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You hummed softly as his hands reached his sweats before he took them off along with his briefs. You gasped at the sight of him, and he rested a hand on your cheek. "Don't worry, love. I'll go slow, yeah?" You gulp before nodding. He reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a condom.

Thank you, Jake, for buying a new pack.

He tore it open before sliding it on and planting a kiss on your forehead. "You can stop me whenever, darling." You nodded as he slowly began to enter you. You gasp at the feeling before gripping his biceps. Steven bit his lip, stopping his movements so you can get used to him. After the small bit of pain, you felt began fading, you gave him the okay to move. He nodded and began thrusting slowly. Pleasure overtook your body, letting your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling on them softly. If you were being honest, you loved the low pace and not just because it was your first time, but because it screamed Steven; slow, gentle, and filled with love.

His lips met yours in another kiss, swallowing your moans as he continued his slow thrusts. Your legs wrapped around his waist, letting him sink deeper into you. He broke the kiss as he moaned, making your clench around him. "Faster," Steven did as you asked, picking up the pace just a little while he let one hand go in between your bodies, letting his finger play with your clit. You moaned as you arch your back, making Steven moan in the process. You felt a knot form in your stomach, and he felt your walls clench around him. "I feel it, love. Let go." You tug on his hair a little harder, letting yourself release around him. His thrusts never falters as he helps you ride out your high before he follows after you, releasing himself into the condom.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder as you both catch your breaths. He begins pulling out of you slowly, making you whimper at the loss of him inside you. He gives you a small smile before heading to the bathroom.

You waited for what felt like 10 minutes before Steven came out with a towel wrapped around his waist and heading towards you. He takes your hand, leading you to the bathroom. You gasped at the bubble filled tub before Steven told you to get in. When you get in, the warmth of the water eased you. "Join me?" He kisses your head before taking the towel off and getting into the tub behind you. He pulls you closer to him, letting your head rest against him. "I love you." You shut your eyes and smile. "I love you too, Steven." He scoped some of the bubbles into his hand before placing them on your head, making you laugh. "To think this happened because of my glasses." You shook your head. "It was also because I love you and trust you, handsome." Steven chuckled. "I know darling. I'm teasing."

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you #marvel #marvel universe #mcu #asks #ask #anonymous #anon #anon asks #anon ask #anonymous asks #moon knight #moon knight x reader #mister knight

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