I Did It For Kim.

Hello! I was wondering if you could write some kind of scenario about a headcanon where Murdoc is afraid of singing, even in front of just the band? As a child, he was forced to sing and was exploited for his voice by his father so nowadays he gets extremely anxious whenever somebody asks him to sing. (Only if you want to, of course! I really enjoy how you write all these headcanons, by the way! You have some writing skills! :)

(Thank you so much!! I’m so glad you like how I write them!!! Sorry that it took so long to write and that it is so long to read… I really liked writing it!!! I hope you like it!!)

Contrary to popular belief Murdoc can sing. He is a decent singer and enjoys singing by himself. Murdoc absolutely refuses to sing in front of anyone else. He can’t, he won’t. After his father forced him to get up on stage and humiliate himself every weekend as a child he swore he would never sing for anyone again and so far that had been the case. 

Murdoc had sung along sarcastically to a few lines of his favorite songs on his radio show, but that was the most anyone had ever heard out of him. Unless that is you can find the few surviving VHS tapes that were taken of him as a child at his father’s favorite bar. Sebastian had filmed the tapes hoping that he could later sell them on the off chance that Murdoc had gotten a few seconds of fame. Murdoc had gone back and taken the tapes before Sebastian could sell them, now they haunted him. 

A very few of the tapes had survived. Murdoc would take them out and rewatch the tapes in his Winnebago where no one else would see them. Murdoc would go over all of the mistakes he had made as a child and the jeering from the crowd off-screen. 

He never forgot the performance where an unruly bar patron had dumped a plate of fish and chips over his head before proceeding to pour the rest of his now flat beer on poor sniffling shivering little Murdoc. The on-screen Murdoc had just stood there clutching his bass looking towards his father and older brother, his eyes pleading them for help, as the man cackled and cracked a few jokes. Murdoc shook his head and sent a few chips falling to the stage floor. He had won the prize for best comedy that year.

The tape suddenly cut to a shaky scene where Murdoc’s brother was holding the camera. Sebastian was holding a handful of five-pound notes in one hand and he leaned his other elbow on Murdoc’s head. “This is the most money this brat has ever made me! I’m almost proud of ‘em!” Sebastian looked down at a faintly smiling Murdoc as he exclaimed “Almost.” Little Murdoc’s smile weakened further but he remembered his exact thoughts from that moment. “I know how to make ‘em proud of me now! He’s almost proud of me!” Presently Murdoc sat shaking in his chair on the edge of his seat thinking “That was the only time he ever said he was proud of me. No almost proud of me. I wasn’t good enough that time.” Murdoc sat shaking and shivering his eyes glued to the screen. 

The tape suddenly cut to static, the VCR spit the tape out at his feet. Murdoc slowly sat back in his chair like he had been shocked out of a trance. He shivered and put the tape back in its case. He wouldn’t dare anyone find those tapes. Murdoc would rather have to battle Satan to the death in the deepest pits of Hell than let his bandmates find those tapes. Murdoc always wanted to scream or throw up after he watched those tapes. His father was long gone by now and he didn’t need the tapes, but he couldn’t throw them out. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “I wasn’t good enough that time” Murdoc sat in silence thinking “I’ll never be good enough for him and if anyone finds these tapes I’ll never be good enough for anyone! I’ll be a bloody laughing stock! I’d have to be a circus clown!” 

Murdoc took a few sharp breaths and sighed looking at himself in the mirror with a worried look on his face. “Alright Murdoc alright, no need to panic, alls well, ya gotta get a hold of yourself! The old geezer is dead anyway it’s not like he can do anything to ya now. Ya gotta calm down before your thoughts get the best of ya.” Murdoc stood up slowly and wandered down to the other end of his Winnebago where he kept a few stacks of records. He rummaged through the fourth stack until he found what he wanted. 

Murdoc hummed the tune of the first song as he was about to put the record on, then came a knock on the Winnebago’s door, Murdoc froze, and 2D’s voice called “Murdoc are ya alive in there! If so Russ says you better come eat dinner seein’ as you didn’t eat anything earlier an we don’t wanna have to come in there two days from now to try an decide if we gotta take ya to the hospital or leave ya on the couch. Russ says if you don’t come now he’s gonna come get ya because you’ve been in there all day!” Murdoc sighed and grumbled, “Alright fine quiet beatin’ on the door I’m comin’ out…” Murdoc stashed the tapes away in a small cabinet under the bed, he didn’t notice the edge of the last tape still sticking out, before he slung open the door. Stu jumped back with a yelp. 

Murdoc descended the three worn out rusty steps and slammed the Winnebago’s door shut locking it. “Why do ya always lock it? Nobody’s gonna go in there. Nobody wants to go in there!” exclaimed. Murdoc turned to him with a tired look that transformed into his regular annoyed grimace. “Because its mine an I’ll do what I like with it. That’s how it is Dents. Now let’s go.” Murdoc and 2D proceeded to take the elevator up from the garage basement to the main floor. Stu thought Murdoc was just bored, but really Murdoc had mastered the bored-when-in-reality-I want-to-fling-myself-in-traffic look which he used quite often. Murdoc is a master actor and the band was none the wiser. 

Upon entering the kitchen Noodle and Russel looked up. “It’s about time you decided to rejoin society.” Russel gave a light-hearted laugh. Murdoc smirked, “Yeah thought I’d grace ya all with my presence!” Noodle shook her head with the same smirk she had learned from Murdoc. “We thought you were digging a bunker down there or a tunnel to the underworld!” Murdoc let out his usual cackle “Yeah sure Noods its a tunnel to Hell, but ya gotta make an appointment first!” The group finally calmed down and sat down to dinner. 

Noodle looked up watching Murdoc then she asked “Stu said you were humming one of our songs. Are you thinking of remaking it?” She smiled and gave a little laugh. Everyone knew Murdoc couldn’t sing. Murdoc looked up from his dinner at Noodle. He looked shocked, a little horrified to say the least. “What nah! He must have been hearin’ things! Stu your hearing things! Ya are hearing things again! B-because it wasn’t me!” Murdoc laughed in an exaggerated tone before saying “I don’t sing Dents ya know that! Ya are ridiculous!” Stu sat down his fork looking confused “No I did hear you! I know it was you! Nobody else was down there but you and me and I wasn’t singing!” 

Murdoc gritted his teeth in a smile “Stu. 2D. Mate, listen you didn’t hear anything. Ya are lying or you were singing one of the two. Now, what was it?” Stu looked annoyed “I told you it was not me! It had to be you! I’m not lyin’ I know what I heard! You are the one lying Murdoc!” Murdoc shoved his chair back from the table and stood up grabbing the collar of Stu’s t-shirt “Now you listen here an you listen good! I. Don’t. Sing! That’s final! Get that in your brain if nothin’ else!” Stu whimpered softly as Murdoc let him go. The band ate the rest of their dinner in silence. 

Later that night Murdoc slunk down to the recording booth in the basement. He had to wait until five in the morning when nearly everyone was asleep. If Stu was awake he was too scared to go down to the basement to venture downstairs. Murdoc had convinced Stu that the basement was haunted more than the rest of the house at night and if he went down there at night then Satan would eat him alive. Needless to say, Murdoc was able to sing alone in peace during these ungodly early hours of the day. 

Murdoc would write new songs and perform them when no one else was around. These few early morning hours were truly the happiest of the day for Murdoc. After tweaking three or four songs Murdoc was awfully tired and fell asleep in the recording booth. 

The next morning Noodle came downstairs to find her guitar only to find Murdoc curled up in a chair clutching his bass and mumbling to himself. Noodle opened the recording booth’s door silently and snuck inside. She reached over Murdoc and pulled her guitar up and over him. She didn’t wake him up, Noodle knew how little sleep Murdoc got. She also knew, like Murdoc had told her as a child, that he slept best when he felt safest and Murdoc thought the safest place to sleep was a place with a locking door. This was why Noodle didn’t complain or find it too odd that Murdoc would fall asleep in the recording booth. 

On her way out of the recording booth, Noodle noticed that the control panel was still lit up. She put the headphones on and hit play on the panel. Noodle was utterly amazed by what she heard. Murdoc could not only sing, but he was rather good at it! 

The first track that he had sang was Tomorrow Comes Today followed by Double Bass, one of Murdoc’s favorites, and Stop the Dams. All sad songs. Emotional songs. Lastly was El Mañana, this was the saddest most emotional version of the song that Noodle had ever heard, albeit 2D’s version was more beautiful, but Murdoc’s version was a very sad song full of raw emotion that left Noodle feeling like her heart had been ripped out and stomped on. 

Noodle looked up over the panel, on the verge of tears as she stared at Murdoc curled up in his chair softly snoring and wheezing as he slept. Next to the recording panel was the key to Murdoc’s Winnebago. Noodle knew he wouldn’t be happy, but she needed answers. Why wouldn’t he sing in front of the band? Why did he make such a show of denying that he could sing? She needed to know and the Winnebago would be a vault of answers.

Noodle made her way over to the Winnebago and slowly unlocked the door, it creaked making her jump, her head spun around to see if Murdoc had heard, but he didn’t head a thing in the soundproof recording booth. Noodle kept up the three rusty steps and into a tiny cluttered room with blackout curtains. She closed and locked the door behind her. 

Noodle had to let her eyes adjust to the low light shining in from between the curtains. She finally could see and started her journey of finding the answers that would unlock an age-old mystery. 

Noodle spent an hour searching through the stacks of records, cassette tapes, and old tapes of the band’s early practices. These were all interesting but were not what she was looking for. Noodle was getting tired of searching and spun around to leave. As she turned her shoe kicked the edge of a tape and sent it sliding from under the bed to in front of the small tv. Noodle sat down in Murdoc’s chair and picked up the tape, unlike the others this one was unlabeled save for the year 1976. Murdoc would have ten years old then. Noodle dusted off the tape and pushed it into the slot at the bottom of the tiny tv. The tv sprang to life and the tape played. A tiny ten-year-old Murdoc stood on stage under the spotlight. He chewed on his thumbnail looking out into the crowd as someone announced his name and the song he would play. 

Noodle leaned forward in he seat watching as a man off stage interrupted Murdoc’s singing halfway through the act. Noodle watched in horror as Murdoc was drowned in fish and chips with half a beer to add insult to injury. Offscreen Sebastian handed the camera to his eldest son before he stomped up to the stage and threated a now terrified Murdoc that if he didn’t finish the song that he wouldn’t see the light of day again. Murdoc shook the chips from his soaking wet hair and tried to adjust the microphone, but the stand broke in his hands. Murdoc stared pitifully from the microphone to his father who threw up his hands in frustration. Murdoc tried to balance the microphone back in the broken stand but it fell to the floor and rolled away to a waitress. Murdoc jumped from the stage to get the microphone. The waitress picked it up and feeling sorry for him told “Just go sing an I’ll hold this for ya.” Murdoc was extremely embarrassed and kept thanking the waitress over and over until she told him to stop. The waitress sat at the edge of the stage and Murdoc sang his heart out for the kind lady, he couldn’t bear to look at his father. Once the song over the crowd laughed and fell over themselves. 

Noodle shifted in the chair uncomfortably. She couldn’t believe how cruel that crowd was. No wonder Murdoc had chewed out a tech guy for grumbling at Noodle when she was singing as a kid. Murdoc didn’t want anyone to do anything remotely like that to her. 

Noodle looked back at the tape which cut to static then focused on Murdoc and his father. Sebastian was leaning on Murdoc waving a small handful of five-pound notes in the face of another man. Murdoc was looking up at his father as Sebastian said “This is the most money this brat has ever made me! I’m almost proud of ‘em!” Sebastian looked down at Murdoc, who slightly grinned up at him with a look desperate for approval, as he exclaimed “Almost.” Little Murdoc’s grin fell from his face and his brother laughed off screen “What did ya think was gonna happen Murdoc! You thought for even a second that ya could screw up that badly and he would be proud of you?! This is too good! This is priceless comedy! This tape will be worth gold!” The tape suddenly cut to static. 

Noodle sat back in the chair, she hadn’t realized how far she had leaned forward. Noodle felt horrible and she had her answers. She stood up stunned into silence. She sat back down and rewinded the tape. She paused it on the scene where Sebastian was leaning on Murdoc. Noodle was disgusted with Murdoc’s father. She thought to herself “No wonder Murdoc only calls him by his name, I wouldn’t call him a “father” either.” 

The door to the Winnebago rattled. Murdoc’s voice yelled from the other side “Where the hell is my key! I couldn’t have left it in there, well maybe I did. Didn’t thinks so.” Noodle sighed with relief. “Ah well, I’ve got a spare!” Noodle panicked and looked about frantically.  There was nowhere for her to hide. Noodle took a deep breath and knew what she would say to him. Murdoc would be mad, that was undebatable, but Noodle knew what she had to say would calm him down, maybe. 

Murdoc fought with the Winnebago’s lock until it finally gave way and allowed him to enter. Murdoc stepped onto the first step and stopped. He knew something was wrong. His stacks of records had been shifted to the right and the cassettes had been turned the opposite way. Murdoc let out a low growl. Noodle took a step back into the shadows and stepped on a discarded cassette case. 

Murdoc put his spare key back in his pocket, slowly let the door swing open, and catapulted himself into the Winnebago at full speed. Murdoc snarled looking like a wild animal ready for a fight, Noodle let out a short scream and tumbled backward onto the floor scooting away until she was under the small wall mounted table. Murdoc leaped from the doorway to directly in front of the table crouching forward and grabbing Noodle’s hand me down shoes she had gotten from Stu. Noodle kicked at him as Murdoc drug her out, kicking and screaming, from under the table. 

“What did I tell ya about stayin’ out of here 2D! You told me yesterday that you wouldn’t wanna come in here anyway! 2D you answer me! How did you even get in h-” Murdoc finally drug Noodle out from under the table and stared at her. “Noodle? W-what are you doin’ in here?” Murdoc let her shoe go and stood up slowly backing away from her. Noodle stood up and looked at Murdoc then at the tiny tv. She had left the tv on with the tape in paused on the scene of Sebastian leaning on Murdoc. Murdoc followed her gaze to the tv. His head whipped around and he gave her a real look of fear, utter humiliation, and anger. “Is that what you were looking for? You wanted to laugh at me with the rest of them? Is that what you want!” Murdoc screamed as he stomped to the tv and ejected the tape, yanked it from the tv, and shoved it at Noodle pushing her backward a few steps. “Well, there ya go! Take the damn thing then! Go get famous on the bloody internet for havin’ the most horrid video of Murdoc Niccals! Its gotta be worth something by now! Go on get out! Shoo!” Murdoc made a shooing motion at Noodle. 

Noodle didn’t move an inch. She watched as Murdoc sat on the edge of the bed and hung his head. After a moment Murdoc looked up at Noodle with a look of pleading “Just leave me alone will ya? Go on and show Russ and 2D if ya want. I was a laughing stock then, I might as well be one now. Serves me right doesn’t it? Trying to hide all of it.” Murdoc sighed and continued softly. “I just wish it was anyone but you who found it. Russ wouldn’t say much and Dents would get a kick out of it, but ya always looked up to me so much as a kid, but you were just looking up to a lie. You saw that tape, I can’t sing, so whats the point of tryin to now.” 

Murdoc stood up and hauled out a box of tapes from under the bed. “Here take the set. The one ya are holding is the last one. Can’t separate the set now.” Murdoc pushed the box into Noodle’s hands and took a step back. “Well, what do ya have to say? Don’t just stand there! Tell me something! anything, p-please Noods. Don’t just stare at me.” Noodle dropped the box of tapes and stepped forward so fast Murdoc couldn’t escape. Noodle hugged him as tightly as she could. Murdoc looked down at her as she mumbled something to him. “You know I can’t understand ya if you mumble at me.” Noodle looked up at Murdoc who still had a worried frightened look plastered on his face. “I’m proud of you.” Murdoc looked bewildered and squirmed trying to get out of the hug. Noodle hugged Murdoc a little more and said “I’m not almost proud of you, I am proud of you and you can sing. I heard the songs you recorded last night.” Murdoc stopped struggling and in a moment he was wracked with sobs.

After about ten minutes Murdoc sniffled and started to pull himself together again. “Alright, all of this, the whole lot. Everything you saw and heard here is a secret. Don’t tell Russ and 2D. Got it?” Noodle nodded “Only if you agree to sing with me every once in a while.” Murdoc sighed and gave a nod. “If you want me to then I will. Ya know I used to sing for ya when you were a kid. You had the worst nightmares and I’d come in and scare off all the monsters and sit with ya and sing to ya until you fell back asleep. I bet you don’t remember that now do ya?” Noodle laughed and smiled “How could I forget! You wrestled a sweater and told me you fought off the monster! It was hilarious!” 

Murdoc and Noodle agreed that in addition to their late night cartoon watching that they would rewatch some of the funny home videos that had been taken of the band’s early years and record a few songs. The rest of the band never saw the songs and Noodle and Murdoc got a kick out of singing funny songs. Murdoc stopped rewatching the tapes he kept under the bed in his Winnebago. He had new tapes to watch now, mostly of he and Noodle jumping up and down yelling random lyrics in the recording booth. 

Steve helpfully offering his hand to everyone boarding the boat, only to get ignored or unnoticed every single time. that’s it, that’s the post

Karu_karuken has the power to make us die of cuteness 🥺💗💕

I just realized that I never posted this

You can see this dialog after u kill Toriel

More Moon Knight for the tl.

This one was a challenge, the face was complicated and the shadows were very strong which is a bit hard to do with tempera , and to top it all off i had the brilliant idea to paint it in my sketchbook which has pretty thin pages. So it was an adventure what can i say. I donno if i really caught his face that well but i tried my best.

Love Language (Steven Grant Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant (Moon Knight) x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Gender neutral pronouns throughout, but AFAB reader for smut purposes. As per this request the reader touches themselves in bed while Steven is asleep, so reader discretion advised on that topic)

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: "Huge fan of SG Wet Dreams but I also bring you: Steven being nervous about physicality and reader not wanting to push him but it's just a bit much laying next to him at night horny and how would he handle waking up to a reader pleasuring themselves 😶"

Author's Note: Bringing back my sweet boy Steven Grant for this exceptional request :) Thank you to everyone sending me these headcanons, I hope the months I take to reply are worth it 😄💞

Love Language (Steven Grant)

"It's only been a month, give him all the time he needs and he'll make a move eventually. I mean look at you, of course he will! But when he's ready and not before" You spoke firmly to your dressed up reflection in the mirrored wall, as the lift climbed to Steven's floor. Dating the gift shop employee had been the dreamiest month you could have imagined, his undivided attention and warmth filling your heart every time his eyes met yours. You could tell how much effort it had taken him just to ask you out in the first place, nervously wringing his hands as he stumbled his way through directions to a cafe he liked nearby, so the last thing you wanted to do was pressure the seemingly inexperienced sweetheart. After four dates, and a painfully slow walk back to your place, you had finally stared at his lips so unavoidably that he'd worked up the nerve to kiss you goodnight, giggling enthusiastically with every kiss you shared since. You were content to take things slow with Steven, respecting his boundaries and confident you were both in this for the long haul. However it's safe to say that while your brain had accepted that, your body didn't seem to get the message. With every sweet word, every gentle brush of his trembling fingers over your skin, every nuzzle of his nose against yours as he beamed after each kiss, you ached for him more and more. And the thought of spending the whole evening with your thighs pressed against each other on his little sofa sent electricity through your veins that was hard to ignore.

You took a deep breath before you knocked for his flat, reminding yourself again to let Steven set the pace, his comfort far more important than your stirring desires. The door sprung open the second your knuckles made contact with the wood, your sweet date hovering by the door from the moment you'd let him know you were leaving work.

"(Y/n)!" He cried excitedly, like he did every time he saw you, no matter how dates you'd been on together. His warm gaze fixed on your face, trying to notice every detail of it, even more entranced by your beauty that he'd been the first time he saw you across the museum. He stilled in the doorway, letting the butterflies inside him soar, already day-dreaming of a future where he was the man you came home to day after day.

"Hi Steven." You greeted gently, shuffling the bags in your arms a bit to snap him out of his trance.

"God sorry, I'm blocking the doorway like a numpty while you've got all those bags. Come in, let me take one of those." He scrambled out the way, shaking his head, and helping you set down the bags in your arms.

"Thank Steven, as much as I love taking the time to stare at you, they were a bit heavy." You joked, earning a almost manic laugh from him as he shook his head again, blood flushing his cheeks with colour,

"YOU staring at ME, yeah right, good one." He peered into the canvas bag as he settled it onto his kitchen counter, "What is all this love?"

"Well it's miserable outside, so I thought rather than go out I would cook for us?" You watched a sweet smile spread across Steven's face at your thoughtfulness, genuinely surprised by the seemingly endless kindness you held for him. As he watched you pull out ingredients and navigate his little kitchen his face faltered for a second,

"Oh god, i'm so sorry love, I don't know if I've told you but I'm vegan..." You laughed at his panicked expression, like he hadn't mentioned it at every dinner date for the last month, before smiling reassuringly,

"So is my ramen." Adding with a wink, "Maybe I should introduce the two of you." At that he let out another loud laugh, moving around the counter to situate himself right in front of you, timidly wrapping his arms around your neck, the soft wool of his jumper enveloping your shoulders as his lips found yours. His kiss landed softly, full of warmth, a smile fighting against his cheeks as you leant forward to let your chest settle against his.

"You really are perfect." He breathed-out absent-mindedly, more thinking aloud in the warming glow of your embrace than actively seeking to compliment you.

"I' don't know about perfect, but i'd settle for perfect for you." You replied sweetly, drinking in the loving light in Steven's eyes as he happily nodded at your comment, trying not to think about the warmth building in your lower belly as he hugged you closer. Steven stood in silence for a beat, just letting himself enjoy this moment, the kind of easy Friday night he had longed for his whole life now a regular fixture in his present and future. That seemed to trigger a follow-up thought for him because he jumped away from your touch, suddenly dashing around his flat like a man possessed.

"Are you okay, love?" You offered softly, less than concerned as you caught the beaming smile on his face as he rummaged through a satchel before turning around proudly thrusting his offering towards you.

"Yeah, sorry, I wanted to give you this before I forgot! You said you had a whiteboard at work you could decorate now, so I wanted to give you something from me to put on it! If you want to, obviously you don't have to, but I just thought..." He continued his nervous ramblings as you looked over his gift: a postcard from the museum with a collage of pictures from the ancient Egypt exhibit across the front. Turning it over delicately, already treasuring the simple gift, you could see Steven had carefully hand-written a note for you, in hieroglyphs.

"I love it Steven, of course I want to put it up. What does it say?" You beamed, watching his stare fall to his feet, hands wringing nervously like they had the first day you met.

"Well, uh, that's a secret love. One day I'll lend you my dictionary and you can find out. But I promise it's nice." He looked up proudly at the final word, a devotion in his transfixed gaze that made your heart flutter and thighs clench.

***

3:07. The glaring red light of the clock seemed to stare back at you as you struggled to return to the realm of sleep. It had been another perfect evening of respectful romance between you and Steven, ending in him spooning you in bed as you both settled into a cosy rest. But it seemed like today your body wanted more than you were willing to ask for of Steven, waking you with an almost uncomfortably warm feeling in your lower stomach. You stared at the ceiling, not daring to look at the man peacefully resting beside you, his arm still draped over your bare stomach, only adding to your sensitivity. Carefully sliding out from his grasp, you stepped out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen hoping a little space would calm your pounding heart.

It was there you saw the postcard, and decided on something you knew would calm you down: there was nothing less sexy than homework, right? Creeping across the wooden floors, you scanned each book with the torch on your phone until you found the dictionary you were looking for: hieroglyphs. Settling onto the floor you began flicking through, isolating symbols and making a note of each one you translated in your phone. You could feel your eyelids get heavier as you worked, relieved that this intense concentration seemed to be keeping your mind from wandering back to the warm, muscular figure asleep a few feet away. Between the dictionary and trawling through some online forums you could bet Steven was a moderator on, it didn't take you long to find the same string of symbols on a blog covering famous Egyptian love stories from centuries past. There you found the story of a poor egyptian peasant who won the love of a pharaoh's daughter and inscribed in stone for all eternity: "My heart belongs to you, I simply borrow every beat."

If you hadn't already been sat on the floor, you might have genuinely swooned. You allowed yourself a glance at Steven's peaceful form, moved by the way he saw himself next to you, his choice of story just as telling as the sweet words he wanted you to see from him day after day whenever you were apart. You moved as quietly as you could as you set the dictionary back in its place, smiling at the thought of Steven carefully writing this note with no translation, trying to keep the depths of his feelings hidden a little longer. With everything reset you eased yourself back into your place in bed, Steven's broad hand instinctively stretching across your stomach again.

It wasn't until your skin burned under his touch that you realised your little translation exercise had only deepened your aching need for him, his romantic gift making him somehow even more desirable. As you watched him breathe softly in his sleep, full lips slightly parted you couldn't help but picture how beautiful he'd look underneath as you rode him, his lips spilling moans instead of calm breaths. Your thighs rubbed together involuntarily as you stared at him, sighing in relief at the slight friction on your warming core. You knew at this point there was no way you were going to be able to sleep without calming yourself down, your heartbeat pulsing between your legs as your gaze drifted down his bare chest, picturing his awestruck face as you left a trail of kisses down it, teasing him before taking him deep in your throat. Your hand slipped into your shorts before you realised what you were doing, a jolt running up your spine the second it made contact with your throbbing clit. You had to fight not to jump at the contact, already so aroused as you dipped your middle finger slowly into your wet folds. You held your lower lip softly between your teeth as you moved, desperate not to make enough noise to wake Steven, pushing the shame out of your mind as you brought your now slick fingers to circle your clit delicately. Gaze fixed to Steven's stout fingers resting across your bare skin, just inches from where you really them, you thought about how good they'd feel pressing into you, stretching you out and getting you wet before he brought his hard manhood to slide into your centre. As your fingers brushed your sensitive bud in quick circles, you fantasised about the view of Steven on top of you, running his length teasingly between your aching folds, smiling gleefully as you told how much needed his cock, his mouth, his fingers, any of him, begging him to fill you up.

As your eyelids fluttered shut, imagination full of the handsome man beside you, you missed his eyes cracking open slightly, before shooting wide as he watched you.

Steven could feel the slight tremble of your thighs against the bed, initially worried you were having a nightmare, but now wondering if he was in a dream of his own. He held his breath as he watched your fingers work, not wanting to disrupt, his angle letting him see down your shorts to the glistening mess you had worked yourself up into. He thought about shutting his eyes again, feeling like a pervert for wanting nothing more than to let his hand join yours, giving you what he hoped would be a very pleasant surprise. Steven had found himself in a similar position at the end of a lot of your dates, failing to take your physical relationship a step further despite building himself up to it night after night. So usually it was him laying in this bed, fisting himself to the thought of what could have happened if he had just been able to touch you.

"Steven." You moaned absent-mindedly, your mind so clouded by thoughts of him you hadn't noticed your mouth fall open. But Steven had, the noise snapping him back into the moment as he watched your tongue trace across your slightly bitten lip, your chest rising and falling as your pace quickened. He thought about all the moments and opportunities he'd missed to give you bring you to this point of ecstasy himself, and took a deep breath, deciding if he couldn't say something now, the moment might never come.

"Do you want some help with that love?" His voice cut through the quiet dark of the room, and you snapped your eyes open, quickly withdrawing your hand, cursing the involuntary whimper you let out as the loss of contact as you spoke,

"Steven, I'm so sorry! I just couldn't sleep, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. Oh god that probably makes it worse!" The words came out with a tremble as you clasped your hands over your eyes, too mortified to meet his good-natured gaze. You only gave yourself permission to look again when you felt his hand snaking up your inner thigh, tracing small circles into the soft flesh.

"You don't have to be sorry sweetheart, I'm bloody flattered actually! And, I've done the same thing after you've left before, I guess I just didn't think someone as stunning as you would really feel that way about silly old me." Your breath seemed stuck in your chest as you stared deeply into his excited gaze, feeling your legs twitch as his fingers crept higher and higher. You could see him gulp as he reached the edge of your underwear, steadying himself before he spoke,

"I could help if you want, give you a hand...so to speak." His brow furrowed as if unsatisfied with his unpracticed attempts at flirting, "I'd like to touch you, if that's something you want, otherwise I can.."

"I want you to touch me Steven." You breathed out before he could pull his hand away, eyes wide and tone pleading, in a moment that felt like heaven on earth to your excited boyfriend. He grinned and nodded as he slipped his hand into your underwear, moving painfully slowly as if you might change your mind at any second. As his thumb brushed over your wet folds a high pitched sigh left your lips, relief at being touched against coursing through your veins. Steven could feel your stomach tense at his touch, your hips bucking slightly against his hand as he found your clit, brushing over it in soft strokes as his confidence grew. Resting his thumb over your pulsing bud, he slowly slipped one finger inside you, fighting to keep his eyes open so he could watch your wanting reaction as he fought back his own growing excitement, having dreamt of this moment since the first time you'd spent the night. He gave you a few leisurely thrusts and withdraws of his finger, before adding a second one, the feeling of fullness tightening the pressure that had been building inside you all night. His hand worked your entrance as he watched your every reaction to his movements, the combination of his steady rhythm and your growing wetness making every touch feel like silky perfection. Your chest rose and fell at his whim, your nipples hard through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, calling to Steven as he could feel his own hips bucking against your trembling thighs, which occasionally clenched around his hand as your excitement built. He could feel himself straining against the fabric of his pyjamas, his aching, hard, length starting to leak his own excitement as it searched for contact.

As your climax drew closer your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling his lips to yours, barely stifling the latest moan his smooth touch drew from your lips. Eager to feel more of your body, Steven swung his leg over you, moving on top and groaning in your mouth as he felt his throbbing erection rub between your thighs. His fingers kept their steady pace, curling inside you and rubbing your almost overstimulated button, as his tongue hungrily explored your mouth. As you felt the pressure of his dick grinding just below his hand you cried out his name, arching your back to meet him as you felt yourself start to come undone,

"Steven! Fuck, you feel so good." You could feel him moan against your neck as his lips descended lower, his hips trembling at the almost sinful way you cried his name.

"I love the way you say my name love, you sound so good like this."

"You're so good Steven, so gorgeous, so good to me" You continued to praise as his face found your chest, nudging your t-shirt higher with his nose until more of you was exposed for him. He kissed sloppily over your chest, nipping and sucking at the soft skin before letting his tongue trace over your nipple, feeling your walls tighten around his fingers, the volume of your praising words climbing and climbing until they erupted into a single call of his name. You could feel yourself gush around his fingers as your thighs twitched, the teasing lick of his tongue sending you over your long anticipated edge, your whole body writhing under his as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Your head fell back as the pressure inside you finally started to dissipate, overwhelmed by the satisfied feeling of finally having had the man you love pleasure you, and how hard you came at his touch. In the haze of your bliss you could feel his fingers still working you through your orgasm until, with a harsh thrust of his hips and deep groan against your chest, he finally stilled between your legs.

With a soft grip of his hair you brought his lips back to yours for an eager kiss, before sighing out contently, "That was amazing Steven, thank you." He beamed with pride at your words, hoping that meant you'd call on his services again soon, knowing he'd be confident enough to touch any way he wanted on your next date. Planting another soft kiss on his face, you played gently with the hair at the nape of his neck as you gave your hips a soft circle against his,

"If you want I could, return the favour." You spoke softly, taking his bottom lips gently between your teeth only to be met with a laugh that burst through his lips on its own,

"Sorry (Y/n), It's just, uh, a bit too late for that." Your brow furrowed until you realised the slick spread across your shorts wasn't only your own. Even in the darkness Steven's face glowed red at his excitable reaction, watching the dawning realisation spread across face in a slight smile,

"Next time then. Whenever we next wake up." You replied with a quick peck, guiding Steven to lie next to you so you could curl up on his chest, relieved to be less conscious of touching him, and stifling a laugh at the way he nodded happily and glanced back the the red glow of the clock, willing morning to come sooner.

Puzzles

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!Reader (mention of Marc Spector x fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x fem!Reader)

Fic Type: Drabble

Summary: Steven’s not rough with you, like Marc or Jake. He’s more… Reserved. But he will wreck your shit if you ask nicely.

A/N: So yes this is fluffy Steven smut. No I cannot be stopped and no it is not a part of Red Handed.

Rating/Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW under the cut, softdom!Steven, sub?Reader, riding, missionary, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, breeding kink, trying for a baby, pregnancy, mention of marathon sex??? I think that’s it???

Steven Grant was a master of puzzles.

Jigsaws he solved within a matter of hours, if that. You’d long since stopped trying to keep track of his 3000-or-more-piece puzzles, always Egyptian-themed, that he’d clear a table for, finish in record time, and then break it up and put it away before reaching for the next one. 

Escape rooms? You figured when you introduced him to the random little escape room app on your phone that he’d be just as stumped as you were. Instead, ten minutes later, he asked you how he gets to the next world. “Steven,” You breathed in astonishment. “You… You beat the fucking game?!” I think it’s a given to say that he’d also completely owned your consoles when you showed him puzzle-based games like Skyrim or Zelda.

Jenga, Ka-Plunk, DnD, hell, even Clue, he blew your mind with how quickly puzzles were solved by his hands. Incomprehensible, astounding, holy fucking shit your boyfriend is a genius. 

Specifically, one of them in particular.

His Rubik’s cube.

The way he moved those goddamn fingers, those fingers that he could bend and flick and curl expertly against you and in you when you needed him too. Those hands alone could make you see stars if he was really intent on doing so.

He hated it when he had to use both hands for the Rubik’s cube. So he oiled it, ensuring that it flipped and moved with the smallest of touches, one-handed. Shk, shk, shk, he’d already solved it twice while you were watching, restarting the process when you asked him that one simple question. “Just one more time, love. Three times, then I’m all yours, yeah?” His soft voice was deeper, huskier, a little out-of-focus because of how deeply he was concentrating– not that you could tell he was. He looked calm, serene… but calculating. Deep in thought.

You were the puzzle this time.

“S-Steven, please–”

“Just a little bit longer, love.” He tossed the cube up in the air in front of your face, just being a showoff at this point. 

Two weeks ago, you’d started talking about raising a family together. At first it had just been uncertain questions, but then you’d started looking into schools nearby, making lists of baby names, adopting a healthier diet, and going to the doctor. Steven was more determined to get you pregnant than you’d expected, tracking your cycles and ovulation periods– hence why he’d made you take a week off work. He’d seemed a bit nervous when he admitted that he called in for you. “Well, love… you’re ovulating now, yeah? I figured now’s a better time than any to–” You’d never heard the end of that sentence, having immediately dragged him to the bed.

 But now there wasn’t an equal flow, like there usually was.

“Don’t cum until I say you can, dove. You can do that, yeah? Can you be a good girl for me?”

He’d laid back, helping you straddle his lap and sink down on his thick cock; it was then you’d realized that he hadn’t cum earlier, that he was holding off, maybe hoping an extremely powerful orgasm might be what it takes to knock you up. You were a puzzle he needed to solve, so like always when he focused intensely, you didn’t even begin to understand what he might be thinking. 

He hadn’t thrust up into you, although he had allowed you to roll your hips, bounce on his length, do whatever you want at whatever pace you wanted– there were only three rules. You couldn’t touch yourself, you couldn’t cum, and you had to keep your hands on his stomach so he knew you weren’t cheating in your blissed-out state.

Slowly, his dark chocolate eyes trailed from the Rubik’s cube to your red, sweaty face. “S-Steven… Please, please…” 

You found it. Right there. That spot where you can easily drive to your ecstasy. Maybe Steven won’t notice if you cum. Maybe he’ll let it slide. But he knew your body better than you did, and when you started to speed up the rocking of your hips, Steven’s free hand flew to your waist, effectively stopping your impending orgasm. “Steeeevvennn,” You whined, reduced to a blubbering mess of begging to barter for your release. Your approaching euphoria was ripped from you, descending rapidly into a cold pit of roiling tension in your lower belly. 

Steven’s hand crawled up your side, brushing painfully close to your breast without touching it and running up the length of your neck. He stopped at your mouth, fingers expertly running over your top and bottom lip gently. “Sh, dove,” He said, all but absentminded as you tried to fuck yourself without fucking yourself on him, “Almost there.”

He slipped his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck on them. You swirled your tongue and bobbed your head, using the same movements as you would when sucking him off, but aside from briefly glancing to your face, he gave no reaction to indicate that it was turning him on at all. His cock barely twitched inside you, and you weren’t entirely certain if he just had that good self-control, or if you’d gone numb from the waist down from fucking like rabbits all day in any position and location possible in your flat.

Finally– finally– he removed his fingers and twisted to toss the Rubik’s cube onto the nightstand, unintentionally shifting himself deeper inside of you, if possible, and eliciting a moan from you; yep, you could still definitely feel everything down there. If anything, you were over-sensitive, rather than under. He stared up at you with admiration and a small smile, massaging your thighs. “You did so well for me, dove. You ready to cum?”

If it were only possible, you would have cum right then. “Yes, please yes!” Maybe in the morning you’d be a little embarrassed about how easily you begged, and so quickly, too– but you had little time to think about it. Effortlessly, Steven rolled you both over so that he was on top, between your legs and still buried deep inside you– maybe even deeper, oh god, you can’t take it–

Steven’s gentle kiss on your forehead was nothing compared to the sheer intensity of how hard he pistoned his hips into you, the head of his cock bumping your cervix and almost making you scream. “Let it out, darling,” Steven urged, “I like to hear you. Please, love?” He punctuated the question with an open-mouthed, heavy kiss on your pulse point right under your jaw, and this time you didn’t hold back. Your wail of pleasure drowned out his soft moans and gasps as he panted for air. Sweat glistened silver on his tawny skin, dripping from his nose, his hair, the chain necklace he wore– gently, you tugged on it, and Steven’s hands flew to yours. He entwined your fingers together before pinning them on either side of your head, driving deeper, faster, harder, until you can’t breathe, you can’t see, there’s only Steven, who kisses you passionately as his thrusts falter. “You can cum now darling,” He breathed into your mouth, moaning as you screamed his name loudly enough to hurt your throat. You soaked the bed, him, hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole flat was soaked. You’d never squirted before with him, and you wondered if it was what he’d been planning for. 

Steven came with a cry, finishing as deep as he possibly could– a part of you thought he must have shot himself directly into your womb. He let go of your hands, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck as he held you close, trying to catch his breath. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, wincing as his hips rocked of their own accord in the aftershocks of his high. “Can you keep it all in for me when I pull out, dove? We’ve gotta make sure every drop has a chance, darling, every drop.” His hand rested pointedly on your stomach, making you smile and nod frantically.

When you shivered, he immediately reached for a nearby blanket, carefully pulling out of you and ensuring you were warm enough before moving away. When he came back, he very gently cleaned you up before moving you to a hot bath, letting you lay there while he changed the sheets. Before you could even think of moving from the tub, Steven returned carrying his comfiest hoodie and sweatpants he knew you liked to wear, along with a snack oh-so-typical of Steven. 

“Are those… cookies?”

“Oatmeal cookies,” He specified, sitting on the edge of the tub and carefully handing you your plate. “With raisins. Better for you and the baby, innit?”

You flushed up to your hairline, touched by the gesture. “Honey, we don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet.”

“You will be,” Steven said excitedly, setting the milk (yes, he even brought you milk) on the sink so that he could kneel on the outside of the tub, staring at you fondly with his chin resting on the edge. He caressed your face, smiling when you leaned into him to press your foreheads together. “We’re gonna get you pregnant this week, love, I can feel it.” He kissed you softly, before his face contorted thoughtfully as he pulled slowly away.

“Steven?”

“Orange juice,” He said, abruptly standing.

“Huh?!”

He grabbed the glass of milk on his way out of the bathroom. “Orange juice is better than milk, right? Or, maybe not? Maybe they’re equal? You wouldn’t want them at once, love, so; orange juice, yeah, and a banana? I’ll just drink the milk then, don’t wanna waste it, and I’m not sure if I could pour it back into the container without makin’ a bloody mess…”

You listened to his rambling move about the flat as you nibbled on your cookies, smiling to yourself. You and Steven wanted this baby more than anything; and you wanted it even more since Marc and Jake were both scared but excited at the prospect. You looked at baby clothes together, you had everything planned out, and now you were finally, actually trying without any kind of protection to conceive.

Steven may have planned the week, but they were all so sweet, so supportive, so protective, ensuring that you eat right, drink right, sleep right, rest, bathe– 

–and you loved them with all your heart.

The next morning, when you were making the bed, you found his Rubik’s cube half-finished on the nightstand. A smile made its way onto your face as you realized he’d never completed the puzzle last night in favor of completing you.

A couple weeks later, when you and Steven read the positive results of the pregnancy test, you realize, amidst all the cheering and hugging and crying, that with all of his planning, trying to get you pregnant was yet another puzzle he had solved, effortlessly.

With the help of Marc and Jake, of course.

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Thanks for reading! :3

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