#steven grant

[ierofrnkk]

the sum of his parts - steven grant

Summary: You love Steven Grant, and there are some parts of him that stick out in your mind a little more than others. (~1.2k)

Content: 18+, gn!reader but reader has a vagina (no fem pronouns used), very brief & vague oral (f receiving), fingering, egregious use of italics.

a/n: This is the first thing I’ve really ever fully written AND posted!! Forgive me for it being vague and unpolished—I will get better!! I’ve just been so captivated by these boys after watching Moon Knight that I had to write something!

—

You love Steven as a whole, the culmination of all things that make him him, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t notice the little things.

The details.

—

The first thing you loved about Steven was his hair; the way that the curls were always pushed to one side, sitting atop his head like his brush had broken and he’d neglected to buy a new one.

It was one of the first things you touched when you finally had the opportunity to, making up some story about how he’d had a shred of paper stuck to one of his curls—he hadn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

You couldn’t get enough of the soft texture, even after months of getting to experience it. You had your hands in his hair every chance that you got.

When the two of you lay on the couch together, him cuddled against your chest as you watched the next documentary about the evolution of earth’s marine life, or something, you would drag your fingers through his hair idly. He would sigh in appreciation of the gentle touch.

When he’d be in a flurry early in the morning, racing to get ready on time before he missed the bus, you caught him for the briefest moments to smooth your palm across his unruly curls, taming the locks as best you could before he raced out the door.

When he’d settle himself between your thighs, mouth on your cunt like he’d die if you pulled him away, you’d tangle your fingers in those same dark curls, tightening your grip just enough to keep him in place. He always sighed appreciatively then, too.

—

The next thing you’d found yourself loving about Steven were his eyes, always wide like saucers and taking in every ounce of information that they can. The color of them always reminded you of coffee, but specifically the cups that he’d make for you in the early hours of the morning, perfect like no one else could.

You’re stupidly fond of the way he looks at you when you talk—it could be the most mundane thing, like laundry or dinner, and he’d be watching you so intently it’d feel like you’re giving a presentation on newly-unearthed artifacts in Cairo.

You remember the first time he cried in front of you. It was over something that seems so simple now; the two of you had made plans for dinner at your apartment, and he’d shown up late—through no fault of his own, the train wasn’t on schedule—but he’d felt so guilty about it that it brought him to tears. You can still see the way he looked in your mind: brows knit together, those beautifully dark eyes rimmed red and filled with tears.

He’d apologized profusely, and you silenced him with a kiss.

You like the way he looks when he’s half asleep, doing his best to fight his drowsiness to spend as much time with you as physically possible. His gaze is softer, somehow, his eyes half-lidded even with the way he fights to keep them wide open. That’s when you know he’s not going to last much longer before he’s out for the night.

When you’re kissing him, and you pull back for that brief, glorious moment, his eyes are dark, pupils blown with desire in a way that sends a wave of heat to your core.

You don’t miss the way those pretty eyes of his flutter shut whenever you touch him, even if it’s something simple; he’s touch-starved—not that he’ll ever admit that to you—so any physical show of affection is nearly enough to put him over the edge.

You’ve become familiar with the way he drifts, his eyes seeming to haze over and go unfocused—when he goes away for a moment—caught in his own reflection and watching as if there’s something else there with him.

—

You’ve quickly grown to become fond of his hands, in many more ways than just one.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to hold his hand all the time, to feel the warmth of his palm against your own, fingers interlaced with yours in the way that makes you feel like nothing could separate you two. He made sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

You’re very grateful for that.

When he takes one of his hundreds of books off of his bookshelf, flipping through page after page as he looks for a specific section, you can’t help but watch his hands. He moves with ease and precision, stark from the way he’s usually fumbling or unsure of where to go. He’s in his element, and you recognize that.

When he joins you on your monthly grocery trip, he insists on bringing all of the bags up in one go—he’s trying to be helpful, even if it means making things more difficult for him; that’s just how Steven is. Selfless. You can’t get enough of the sight of him like that, though, with multiple grocery bags held in each hand, all while he does his best to navigate your apartment complex.

You remember the first time he truly, properly held your hand; he’d done it in such a Steven way that you couldn’t deny him. He’d gone off on some spiel about human evolution and something about how in ancient civilizations, the size of your hands denoted status—you can see where this is going—and he insisted the two of you compared the size of your hands. For the sake of anthropology, of course.

Knowing what he was getting at, you obliged, pressing your palm to his, and without a beat of hesitation, he laced his fingers with your own, a sheepish grin on his face as a result of his boldness. You couldn’t even be mad about it.

Of course, those hands of his are good for more than just holding yours or carrying your groceries.

—

The first time he made you come was with his hands; he was too impatient to even wait to fuck you properly—he just had to touch you—so, he did.

You remember the feeling of his hands on your thighs, shifting and adjusting you until you were in a good position for him. He had made sure to not be too rough with you, even in his desperation. Sweet, considerate Steven.

His hands, as fidgety and hesitant as they usually are, were precise and sure when he touched you. He moved deftly when he found your slit, dragging his fingers through the wetness that’d already gathered there.

It wasn’t long after until one of those same thick fingers pushed into your heat, then another. It’s practiced—efficient— like he’s done this for you a thousand times, even though you both know he hasn’t.

When his thumb had brushed your clit, with just enough pressure to send another wave of heat up your spine, you knew you were done for. He had looked at you with those eyes, pupils blown and eyes half-lidded, and you could tell right then that he was more focused on your pleasure than his own.

When you finish, you card your fingers through his raven curls, holding just enough to bring him close enough that you can kiss him.

He goes willingly, all sweet and pliant as you maneuver him closer, and you’ve never been more grateful to have someone like him.

—

Steven is much, much more than just the sum of his parts, but you sometimes have to put him under a microscope and appreciate everything that makes him him.

[potatowilde]

This was in a sketch page and idk what happened lmaaaao

[sinningsalsachip-blog]

I miss him. Damn.

[larugo23]

MOON KNIGHT ‎= ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

drawing💘

[barks-hideout]

Ma’am, that is my emotional support traumatized man in his 40s

[thereal-moonknight]

I fear that most people don't understand jake has good intentions 99.9% of the time

[lollipencil]

ITPM: What If... Same-Age Robins?

Saw a few bits of things using this concept, and got inspired. I'd recommend reading/re-reading Chapter 1 of the main fic to avoid confusion. @harleyification, here it is as requested.

Enjoy and be gentle ---

It was halfway to their intended destination, when a soft thump from his right had Steven startle hard enough to almost summon the suit once more. "Howdy," another, darker clad Robin drawled, his hood almost highlighting his grin. "Heya Hood, we're getting burgers. You coming with?" the original Robin smiled calmly. "Yeah, alright."

Their walk from there was silent. Only once inside did Steven speak: "Um, yes, hello. We would like three burgers. Uh, please?" "And one black coffee," a voice added. For the second time that night, Steven jolted at the sudden arrival of a Robin. "Ah, no," Hood promptly stated to the shorter teen. "You've been up since yesterday night Red," Robin pointed out with his hands on his hips.

Red Robin's face soured. "Fine. One decaff black coffee then." "Would you like fries with that?" the cashier drawled. "Um, yes, please," Steven answered to a bunch of nods from the round of Robins.

"How many of these guys are there?" Marc asked incredulously as they claimed a table. "So," Robin chirped, "Powers?" "Yeah," Steven admitted, "In a way." "What's that mean?" Hood asked as the plates were set before them. Red said nothing, just pulled out a tablet and started tapping away. "...What do you lads know about the Egyptian gods?"

"That there's a lot of them?" Robin sheepishly replied. "Which one's relevant right now?" Red asked without looking up. "Khonshu," his name was punctuated by mouthfuls of fries. "Hey, hey, careful," Hood urged gently, "Try to not eat too much right now."

Steven paused and breathed. "Wound up in a... situation," he admited, trying to not think about the full story, "Managed to call to him by accident." "And now?" "I help him protect others who travel by night, as he protected u- me," Steven stumbled over the pronoun. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice. A hum spread between the round, just as the door opened.

The last Robin had finally arrived. "So, this is where you all vanished to," he drawled blandly. "Put down your hackles," Hood snarked, "Can't some guys have a late-patrol snack with a new friend?" "You-!" "The fries are cooked in sunflower oil," Robin offered, burger halfway to his mouth. Crested Robin sighed through his nose before sitting next to Red Robin. Red moaned but said nothing and shuffled over, handing off the tablet to Crest as he took a big sip of his drink. It was a few minutes later that the Bat himself appeared.

The door was near silent as he entered. But the shadow he cast was obvious. Instantly, Marc and Jake who'd been about to go to sleep, were wide awake. "Mierda," Jake cursed quietly. If Batman noticed them, he said nothing. Just tiredly watched the Robins eating and turned to the cashier: "Thank you for taking care of them. I'll have a white Americano."

From there, a suprisingly comfortable silence settled. Steven managed about half of his burger before he had to stop. At Hood's look, Steven nodded, and he promptly transferred Steven's remaining fries Crest's way. Crest looked up at him and nodded in thanks.

Once the plates were more or less cleared, everyone got up and staggered out. The Batmobile was parked right outside. Before Steven could consider how to get back to their usual warehouse, a gentle hand on his back guided him into the Batmobile. All four Robins blinked as the door closed with Steven inside.

Then Hood snorted. As he covered his growing giggles, Red sighed and Robin just leaned into Steven's shoulder. "Not again," Crest lamented quietly. A deep echoing laugh followed them as they drove off.

[mediocreshake08]

Just rewatched Moon Knight episode 1, and I now remember why I loved this show. Not for the fights, not for the acting, it was just for Steven Grant being a babygirl

[traveller-of-the-knight]

*ok, but what is Jake's stragle?*

[guardianspirits13]

lets just say that they would *not* get along

[potatowilde]

Needless to say, Khonshu wearing silly hats is my new favorite thing. Drawing hands? Still not. Who do we think was more pickle-avoidant: Marc or Steven? >:D Another Ko-fi request! If you wanna see early art posts--Come check me out on Ko-Fi! 🫶 Ko-Fi | Commissions OPEN | Instagram | X

[oh-tobeafrog]

ok… imagine a moon knight and daredevil crossover where dd has no issues fighting the invisible jackals because the dude cant see shit anyway. moon knight is like “you can see them??” and matt, not wanting to reveal his blindness but having no idea theyre invisible, is just like “yeah i can see of course i can see”

moon knight then assumes dd is an avatar of an egyptian god. bc what else? so, naturally, moon knight asks “what god do you serve?”

“jesus”

“what??”

“im catholic?”

“what???”

[aphrcdites]

“not all men”

you’re right, my favorite fictional character would never.

[moonpascal]

self insert x canon will always hold a special place in my heart

[gupaooooon]

3.30 MoonKnight 配信開始から2周年 🌗

[tinymintywolf]

my contribution to @moon-knight-zine ! 🌙