Devotion || Steven Grant X Reader

Too Good To Be True | Steven Grant x F!Reader

| Gif — @raggedy-dxctor |

Word Count — 6k

Summary — Steven Grant has a crush on an event coordinator at the museum who is too pretty. With no place to stay for the night, he invites her to spend the night at his place.

Warnings — Graphic depictions of s*x, mast*rbation, virgin!Steven, sub!Steven, slight dom!reader, female!reader, unprotected s*x, oral (female and male receiving). Let me know if I missed anything!

18+ Only! Minors DNI

A/N — Steven is basically the biggest simp for you in this lmao

With a dazed glossiness within the dark eyes of Steven Grant, he absentmindedly listened to the blurred words falling from your rosy lips. His chin was pressed against the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the counter as you discussed the timetable of the gala occurring in less than two weeks. Your hand was clutched on the plastic clipboard, intently scribbling your erratic thoughts and circling possible concerns with a black pen. The employees of the museum orbited around you as you assigned everyone to temporary positions. With each name announced, you wrote a small check beside the inscriptions. Truth be told, Steven wasn’t entirely certain what the purpose of the gala was. He remembered you mentioning the theme—Egyptian Moonlight—and his brain mushed together as he heard the softness of your voice. He presumed the purpose was to raise money for another exhibit he overheard Donna stressing over. 

“Steven Grant,” His name danced across your tongue like golden honey and the sound warmed through him. Your soft eyes moved from the clipboard and found his dazzled gaze. He was distracted with the sheen of your hair and didn’t notice you were patiently waiting for a response. You paused for a moment and raised an eyebrow as he didn’t acknowledge the inquisitive glance. Someone beside him nudged him and he snapped from his daydream. He straightened and glanced around him. His tan cheeks flushed as he realized everyone was expecting a response. Returning his frantic gaze to you, he warily smiled. The embarrassment burned through him like a wildfire. Your eyes remained on him for a brief moment, your lips curving into an amused smile. “Steven Grant,” You repeated, “Tour guide.” He blinked and an overwhelming thrill-filled him as the title ‘Tour Guide’ processed through his head.

You continued onward with your presentation and the small smile reserved for him seared through him. Sure, there was a portion of him completely mortified from being caught with a lovestruck expression, but you didn’t scrunch your nose with glaringly obvious aversion. You moved through the swarm of employees and concluded the presentation with an enthusiastic expression. 

The swarm dispersed and their indistinct conversations disappeared. The moonlight from the night sky poured into the panels of windows. He hadn’t known this much time had disappeared during your presentation. Your voice reverberated through the vast museum marble walls as you spoke with some of the museum's official representatives. You were an illustrious event coordinator and he, admittedly, searched your name on his computer months prior when you were planning the grand opening of an exhibit. He scrolled through the online collections of your other exhibitions and festivals. There were a large variety of themes, some were sultry and oozed with sensual darkness and there were some illuminated with bright colors and flashing lights. Regardless of the theme or requirements, you designed venues perfectly. He always stared at the photographs with you in them, smiling brightly standing beside politicians and celebrities with extravagant gowns. Ever since then, you were recruited by the museum repeatedly and each gala was better than the previous one. 

Steven gathered his belongings and his thoughts wandered to meaningless things like if he should purchase Gus another brand of fish food and if he was going to take the bus on time because there was construction happening a few blocks away from his apartment. He was so emersed in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed you emerge from around the corner. A gasp escaped your lips as he collided roughly with you and your collection of messily stacked papers slipped from your grasp and onto the floor, your lukewarm coffee spilling onto your clothes. 

Steven was overridden with remorse as your exhausted expression drooped as you glanced at the dark brown stains seeping through the fabric. Your eyes closed as you exhaled a small and frustrated breath. A string of apologies fell from his mouth as he dropped to the floor, reaching for the scattered papers. You mimicked him and released a feeble curse as your forehead smacked against his. Steven’s cheeks burned as he reached for your forehead before quickly retracting his arm. “Shit, I am so sorry!” His voice was shaky as he muttered another string of incoherent apologies. 

Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn’t refrain from chuckling airily as your hand brushed against the skin beside your hairline. His face loomed across from you, his eyebrows furrowing with concern as his gaze flickered across your kneeling form. He was going to apologize for the twentieth time when you positioned your delicate hand on his that was gathering the papers. “Don’t worry, it’s my fault.” You reassured with an embarrassed smile. He froze when the warmth of your hand shrouded his much larger one. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Much to his dismay, you pulled your hand away and began restacking the papers. He snapped from his daze and began doing the same, occasionally sneaking a glance at the concepts you constructed. Unsurprisingly, they were exceptionally drawn. 

With the color-coordinated papers messily stacked, he pushed himself from the floor and brushed his hands on his thighs before extending his hand outward. His breathing hitched as you peered upward at him through the thick rim of your eyelashes, your eyes glittering from the romantic lighting of the exhibition. Your knees were pressed against the marble floor, his crotch mere inches away from the softness of your lips and his knees nearly buckled at the spectacle. 

You interlaced your fingers with him, groaning as you straightened and wiped the palms of your hands on your sheer leggings. “No, it was my fault! I’m a knob and wasn’t paying attention—” The fusion of your florid fragrance and the syrupy coffee filled his nose as you dismissed his frantic concerns with a wave of your hand. 

You brushed the loose strands of hair away from your face. “Steven, it’s fine.” You pulled your phone from your pocket. “I was pissed because my roommate is having someone over and asked me to give them the night. So I was looking for a hotel around here and didn’t even see where I was going.” Your frustration seeped into your words as you spoke, the weariness oozed from you as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry. I’m ranting, aren’t I?” 

Steven shook his head and clutched the strap of his bag until his knuckles blanched. “No worries, I don’t mind.” His eyebrows scrunched together with uncertainty. “You know my name?” He glanced down at the breast pocket of his jacket, confirming the nametag wasn’t there. He thought you didn’t acknowledge anything other than your clipboard as you strolled through the corridors of the museum, triple-checking everything was adequate for the gala. Steven was one of the several people awe-struck every time you stepped inside the same room as him. 

You chuckled as you shoved the stack of papers inside your large bag. “Of course, I know your name.” You spoke as if the suggestion of you not knowing his name was ridiculous. “You were one of the first people I met when I was recruited by the museum.” 

No, that couldn’t have been accurate. He would’ve remembered the interaction because if there was a time when you spoke with him and him only he would have seared the interaction deep inside his memories. He scratched the nape of his neck. “I’m afraid I don’t remember that.” 

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You said, readjusting your bag’s strap. “You were far too invested in guiding a group throughout the museum. I joined the group and I don’t think I’ve ever learned that much Egyptian mythology from an actual tour guide here.” You continued onward, motioning for him to follow beside you. “You were my first choice to be the banquet’s tour guide.” 

He attempted to disregard how the assertive statement made his stomach flutter. As you both neared the exit of the museum, you muttered some farewells to a few of the staff members. The light breeze of the night chilled you as you descended the large stairs. “Steven, do you know of any decent hotels around the area?” You had briefly searched on your phone, but they were all rated extremely low.

He glanced around the desolate streets. “I know some, but they’re a bit rubbish, honestly.” 

Ask her, Steven. Invite her over.

“You could save some money and spend the night at my place. It’s not too far from here and I won’t charge you.” He suggested apprehensively as he fiddled with the strap of his bag. He glanced around, intentionally avoiding your inquisitive gaze. You raised an eyebrow and chuckled at his awkwardness. “I really hope that wasn’t as creepy as I thought it sounded.” He added after a moment.

He followed you as you continued your stroll. “Most blokes invite me to dinner first.”

His eyes widened with mortification. “N-No, that’s not what I meant!” He hadn’t even noticed your teasing tone and lighthearted expression as he shook his head frantically. This was exactly why he typically ignored Marc's suggestions and ideas. “You would sleep on the bed, of course! I’d take the floor and I would never—“

You squeezed his shoulder and giggled. “Steven, I’m teasing you,” You reassured with a lovely smile. “I’d actually greatly appreciate that. I can drive us to your place?”

He nodded, his cheeks blushing. “Lead the way.”

Steven fumbled for his apartment’s keys as you stood beside him, glancing around the rickety corridor. Muffled voices were seeping from the closed doors of the other tenants, music echoed from the streets below and the hinges of the elevator squeaked the double doors eventually closed. He unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing you a wide entrance inside. The floorboards creaked as you casually walked inside and your doe-eyes eyes glanced at the cluttered mess with subtle allure. He noticed your wandering eyes and scratched the nape of his neck. “If I had known I was going to have company, I would’ve cleaned.” He said nervously. As you continued onward, you glimpsed over the disarray of his disordered books. Most, if not all, were about Egyptian mythology and the pages were folded and the spines were cracked. 

You peered over your shoulder and smiled as he attempted to organize some of the piles of papers and opened books. “No worries, my place isn’t any better.” You admitted, your eyes moving across the passages of the large textbooks. The paragraphs were underlined and highlighted, some were circled and crossed out with a thin line. His erratic movements across the room stopped, his hand carrying a white trash bag as he tossed his takeout from the night before. “My kitchen is covered with color theory and different fabrics for the table covers. It’s much worse than this, believe me.” 

Your lighthearted words reassured him, easing the tenseness of his shoulders as collected the last of his trash. He nodded even though he knew you couldn’t see him as you ventured further inside his apartment. “I can’t make coffee very well, but I can make you some tea?” He was already fumbling through his cabinet of unorganized boxes of tea, some of the packets strewn around. The stovetop clicked and the blue flames flickered as he brought a silver kettle from the washed pile of dishes. 

You closed the book you were scanning and dawdled across the room. “That would be lovely,” The warmth of the flames gradually filled the kitchen. “Steven, do you mind if I borrow some clothes?” The question crashed through him like an icy wave. He whirled around and his nervous eyes glanced at the stained apparel. He didn’t remember you were soaked with chilly coffee, his thoughts were ransacked with the warmth of your skin as you stood beside him within the confines of the unstable elevator. He wasn’t entirely processing that you were standing between the fading walls of his cluttered apartment. This was something he thought of, an unrealistic daydream as he fiddled with a multi-colored Rubix cube at night. But here you were, staring at him with an unsure softness and leaning against his countertop. 

“Of course!” He stumbled as he scampered across and pulled his dresser open, unfolding a freshly washed t-shirt. The fabric was much larger than your frame, but he didn’t think the size difference mattered much. “Can’t have you sleeping in your dirty clothes.” He yanked open another drawer and pulled out a soft pair of loose sweatpants. He closed both drawers and the kettle released a faint whistle. “In that incredibly tight dress.” He muttered to himself. Your dress was tight, a black turtleneck dress where the fabric ended mid-thigh and your sheer pantyhose exposed the smoothness of your legs. “I can make the tea and you can take a shower if you’d like? There are spare towels inside.” 

Blatant relief colored your expression as he mentioned the shower. “I’ll be quick,” You declared and rushed to the opened door across the apartment. The door closed and he closed his eyes as he placed his blanched palms on the edge of the counter. You were inside his bathroom, undressing and allowing the warm water to splash against your bare skin, the fragrance of his soap was going to linger on your skin and within the strands of your wet hair. The hazed image of you scrubbing your breasts and the length of your legs with the suds of his soap were enough to have him struggling to regulate his hitched breathing. His jeans tightened as he continued to think of you touching the peaks of your breasts, your small fingers moving within the tightness between your thighs. 

Come on, Steven. She’s in there. Naked.

Steven closed his eyes tighter as Marc’s voice echoed through his frantic mind. He was convinced Marc appeared from the darkness of his head with the sole purpose to make him keep his composure around you practically impossible. Every time you stepped inside the museum, he emerged from the shadows and highlighted the tightness of your clothes, the way your breasts bounced as you rushed throughout the corridors, and your glittering eyes as you smiled when speaking with the museum officials. You had dropped your pen once and Marc, though Steven would never admit it, he also stared as you leaned forward and grabbed the pen from the floor, your panties peeking from beneath your skirt. Steven couldn’t move from behind the counter for a few minutes as Marc continuously remarked about ripping the thin fabric—

If you’re not gonna make a move, might as well rub one out before she comes out. 

He shuddered as his thoughts brimmed with you and his cock hardened beneath his uncomfortable jeans. He brought his palm onto the throbbing bulge, a small whimper falling from his mouth as he pressed down. There was a pulse of dull pleasure as he rubbed himself over his clothes, drawing his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the threatening sounds. Steven mulled over the suggestion, wondering if you were going to open the bathroom door and see him frantically jerking himself over risque thoughts of you. 

With a wavering breath, he fumbled for his buckle and unzipped himself, pushing the material of his briefs to his thighs. His hand wrapped around himself and there was dreary relief as he slowly pumped himself. You were merely a few feet away from him, a shower curtain and bathroom door preventing you from seeing his leaking cock wrapped by his shaky hand. He brought his palm to his mouth, his tongue gently licking his hand before he continued pulling and tugging. His moans seeped from his opened mouth, gentle breaths, and whiny whimpers as his other hand clenched around the corner of the counter. His hips jerked and he threw his head back, dragging his tongue against his bottom lip. His mind wandered to the image of your fingers sinking inside your tight pussy as the shower’s waterfall drenched your skin. He thought of the sweet moans you would make as he kissed the softness of your breasts, his tongue memorizing your taste as it flicked against your nipple. His rough hands would squeeze your ass tightly after sucking on your fingers, relishing the taste of your pussy as his tongue moved across your soaking fingers. He wanted you clenching around him as you pulled the curls of his hair, his name slipping from your flushed lips as he—

“Steven?”

His eyes snapped open as your voice tore through the thick air. There was a second where he thought of running from the kitchen to the hallway of the complex. He yanked his jeans from his thighs and a horrifying string of apologies escaped him. There was a searing humiliation burning through his veins as he struggled with the zipper. His zipper was stuck, the fabric of his briefs lodged between the metal. He couldn’t believe he allowed Marc to convince him this was something he could do. You were probably disgusted, going to resign his position as a tour guide, and he didn’t even want to think of all the remaining consequences of his actions. 

 He fumbled with his zipper as you slowly drew nearer. You stopped beside him, the warmth of your skin warming him as your eyes glanced at his unsteady hands. You tentatively grabbed his hand from his loosened buckle and his eyes opened, his eyebrows scrunching together with clear confusion. As his eyes fluttered open, he refrained from admiring you wearing his oversized t-shirt, the fabric drooped and flared at your thighs. Your hair was wet and he could already smell his body wash emitting from you. This certainly wasn’t helping his situation.

With large, calloused hand wrapped with yours, you brought his palm to your mouth and he gasped as your tongue moved across his skin. Your eyes closed momentarily as your tongue moved from his palm to the lengths of his fingers, slowly moving them inside the tenderness of your mouth. His eyes followed every assured movement of yours with flared pupils. With his fingers inside, you opened your eyes and sucked the remnants of him and—My God, you moaned. His knees buckled as the small, feminine sound hummed through you. Your eyes were dazed, siren-like as you pulled him from your mouth. “You taste so good,” He was painfully hard as your words processed through his empty mind. You unzipped the small portion he managed to do and he nearly knocked over the glass mugs on the counter as your hand touched his clothed cock. “Can I taste some more?” 

Steven, you better say—

“God, yes.” The words escaped his reddened lips before he could even think of what was happening. Your hand was palming him through his briefs, his fingers were slick with your mouth, and your pretty mouth was looming closer to his. Your gentle lips touched his, brushing against them teasingly as you squeezed him. He released a breathy moan and you closed the distance, relishing the flavor of his lips and his moans. He closed his eyes, unsure of how to move or of where to touch. His hands apprehensively moved to your cheekbones, your face held by his timid grasp. His thoughts were erratic as he eventually moved against you, tasting your lips and hesitantly caressing your tongue. He was kissing you and you were kissing him. He was kissing you, entangling his fingers in your hair as you touched his cock. This was unbelievable. This couldn’t actually be happening. This was too good to be true. 

He almost whined as you pulled away from him. Your forehead rested against his, his nose brushing against yours as your flushed lips curved into a small smile. He almost begged for your mouth to return to his, but when you lowered to your knees, the air left his lungs. Your corrupting gaze remained on him as you pressed small pecks onto his hip bones, then onto his outline. He’d never done this before, he had definitely thought about this more times he could count, but as you stared at him through the rim of your lashes like you were desperate to taste him, he knew he wasn’t going to last very long. You pulled the waistband of his briefs and the cold air nipped at him. Your eyes widened as his cock emerged from his clothes and your collected expression faltered as he twitched achingly. You wrapped your hand around the base of him and his hips jerked at the sudden contact. The heat of your hand was different than his own, entirely different yet exceedingly better. Your tongue erotically licked the tip and he moaned, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter. Your eyes gleamed with a hypnotic eagerness and he knew he was done for.

You dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, sucking on the peak to taste the pre-cum seeping from him. You opened your mouth and brought as much of him as you could manage, hollowing your cheeks. The moans he let out were pathetic whines, throwing his head back your mouth moved around him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He forced himself to stare back down at you, to keep his eyes open to watch the spectacle of his cock disappearing inside your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes as you gagged and he shouldn’t have enjoyed the sound as much as he did. With wavering hands, he wiped the cascading tears from your cheekbones and there was a small portion of him that didn’t like seeing you cry, but the majority and remaining portion of him savored the sight of you on your knees, gagging as the saliva dribbled down your mouth. “Love, I-I’m going to—” Your tongue swirled around his tip and your hand fondled his balls while the other gripped whatever of him couldn’t fit inside your mouth. “I-I don’t want to…Not yet, but—God, that’s so fucking hot.”

His hands tangled your hair as he gently pulled and the feeling erupted a faint moan from you. You pulled away from him and as the crashing waves of pleasure stopped, Steven could finally breathe properly and wasn’t seeing stars. You wiped the sides of your mouth and looked up at him with hungry eyes. “You can come more than once, can’t you?” His eyes widened, breathing shakily as you teasingly licked his cock, still caressing his balls and he wasn’t sure he could even stand anymore. 

“I don’t know,” He admitted, his eyes fluttering closed as you sucked the tip of him again. This was torture, agonizingly lustful torture he would give anything to experience again. “I haven’t done this…with anyone before.” He almost didn’t want to say the bashful words. He was worried you were going to view him differently, but you kissed the base of him and smiled reassuringly. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Your voice was low, silk-like as you dragged your fingernails across his thighs. He shuddered and wanted nothing more than to hear you gag on him again. “Looks like I’m not stopping until you cum again.” Your eyes were determined, ravenous for him and he nearly came at the sight of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen famished for him. His cock vanished inside your mouth and Steven moaned, high-pitched and completely wretched. 

Holy shit, she can’t be real. She’s some kind of sex demon or—Oh, fuck!

Steven groaned as he came inside your mouth, his cum filling your mouth and he couldn’t even think of feeling embarrassed at the pathetic sounds leaving his mouth. His body shook and twitched, he lost control of himself and tugged on your hair, his eyes closing tightly he jerked his hips against your mouth again and again. He was fucking your mouth, relishing the sound of your gags, and couldn’t even feel guilty. “Shit, shit, shit.” He moaned the words over and over again in breathless whispers and your name was mixed in between.

As his movements slowed, you pulled away from him and wiped the corners of your mouth, sucking whatever dripped from your mouth. His chest was heaving, sweat lining his hairline as you stood from the floor. Your lips were swollen, flushed, and wet and he could’ve came again with how you were staring at him. This wasn’t real, you couldn’t have just swallowed his cum and seemed eager to do it again. Marc was right, you were unreal. “Are you going to be a good boy and fuck me, Steven?” He wasn’t aware a simple sentence could physically devastate someone, but those words and the filthy nickname had him crumbling. 

Steven was speechless as you grabbed his loose hand and pulled him away from the kitchen. He didn’t protest or resist, merely obliged as you dragged him to his unmade bed. With a slight nudge, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched you with wide eyes. Across from him, you removed the t-shirt slowly. Your slow movements were dreadful, and when your bare breasts were mere inches away from his watering mouth, his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. His hands reached outward, desperate to squeeze and pinch, but he drew back. “P-please, can I touch you?” His hardened cock twitched as his eyes traveled over your naked body. 

Touch her, Steven. She’s waiting for you. 

You loomed closer, running your fingers through the mess of curls. He leaned into your touch. “You can touch me wherever.” He nodded eagerly and his hands reached for your breasts, squeezing the mounds and a boyish smile rose on his lips. Tentatively, he softly pinched your nipples and froze when you gasped, fearing he had hurt you somehow. However, when he looked up at you, your expression was plastered with unfiltered bliss. His hands cautiously caressed your stomach, your hips, then your thighs. He was memorizing the way you felt, he didn’t want to forget the texture of your skin when you inevitably departed from his room tomorrow morning. His fingers stopped above your pussy and his eyes glittered with elation. He glanced upward at you again, silently asking for permission with an innocent gaze. You nodded frantically. 

His finger moved across the bottom of your pussy and his eyes widened as your slickness covered his fingertip. He examined the evidence of your dripping arousal before bringing his finger to his mouth. He licked it, then sucked, whimpering softly as your taste filled his mouth. He reluctantly pulled his digit from his lips and mimicked his earlier action. His finger dipped inside you and the obscene moan seeping from your mouth was nearly pornographic. His movements started as gradual as he experimented with the way you tightened. He pumped faster, exploring what movements of his made you moan louder and your body twitch. He inserted another finger and the sounds you were making were enough to have him desperate for some relief. “You are quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen.” He muttered, his breath tickling your skin. 

Steven retracted his hand from you and you whined at the loss. He dragged his hand across your slit, your juices pooling on his palm. With his other hand, he moved your leg over his shoulder and you gripped his arm to steady yourself. The sudden movement shocked you, it was unlike him to make such a bold move, but you weren’t going to complain. His mouth devoured your pussy and with one hand coated with your juices, he jerked himself with your arousal and his other empty hand pinched and played with your nipple. Steven didn’t really know what he was doing but he had watched enough videos to have an understanding of it, and the way you tugged on his hair and moaned his name, he thought he was doing a decent job. 

You glanced down at him touching his cock with your juices, his hand moving quickly and the slickness made indecent sounds. God, he was jerking off with your arousal and devouring you like he was a starving man. He needed your clit on his tongue, he needed your cum filling his mouth, he needed you to unravel because of him.

His hand moved across your stomach, his calloused hands caressing your hip before he inserted two of his fingers inside your pussy. A strangled gasp escaped you as he pumped his fingers while flicking his tongue across your clit, gently sucking as you throbbed on his fingers. You tightened your grasp on his messy hair as he curled his digits. Your breaths fastened as the overwhelming pleasure intensified. “Steven, I’m going to cum,” Your voice was breathless, barely above a whisper as he continued to consume you. “Fuck, don’t stop. Just like that, just like that.” Thankfully, he listened to your pleas and his movements and pace didn’t falter. 

His confidence soared as you moaned his name like desperate prayers, nearly begging with dwelling tears as your body moved against him. You tasted like the forbidden fruit, dangerously intoxicating and he would have fallen to his knees every night and begged whoever answered prayers to taste you again. You clenched around his fingers and his name was the only thought filling your mind as you unraveled around him. He was relentless as he proceeded to flick against your clit. You weakly pushed him away and when he didn’t stop, you pushed him slightly harder. He reluctantly pulled away and his doe-eyes peered heavenward, a shy smile rose. “You make the prettiest sounds.” His voice was hoarse and his lips were blushing pink, covered with your cum as he licked them.

With a hazy smile, you removed your thigh from his shoulder and his hand movement slowed to a complete stop. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, discarding the fabric aside as he kicked away his jeans and briefs. Your dazed eyes traveled over him, the flexing muscles of his arms and abs. He was handsome, something written from a romance novel, and yet here he was, looking away from your intense gaze and cowering away. You lightly gripped his chin and forced him to look at you. “You are beautiful,” The words were laced with blatant adoration and his expression brightened, his dark eyes gleaming with bliss. He didn’t want to admit how much that affected him; hearing the woman he liked tell him he was beautiful. “You hear me, Steven Grant? You are handsome and you are more than enough.” He nodded and there was a sheen gleaming in his gaze. He almost cried at the reassurance and you lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “I need you to say it. Use your words.”

“I am more than enough.” His voice was air-like, desperate for your approval. The words were foreign, tasted strange against his tongue, but the surge of self-assurance was internally welcomed by him   

You smiled and caressed his cheek with your thumb. “Good boy,” You whispered and he would have bruised his knees falling to the floor to hear you call him that again. You leaned toward him, nibbling on his earlobe. You smirked as he exhaled shakily. “Do you want to fuck me, Steven Grant?” He eagerly nodded, grasping onto your hips as you kissed his neck, licking the small marks coloring his tan skin. “Get on the bed.”

He almost stumbled over his own feet as he hurried to the softness of his bed, swallowing the lump lodged within his throat as you crawled toward him—a ravenous predator stalking her helpless prey. Such a beautiful sight. 

You touched him and goosebumps scattered across him. Your mouth stopped inches away from his cock and he could feel the warmth of your breath caress his member. “Tell me, Steven. Do you think about me often when you touch yourself?” He couldn’t even answer your question as you spit onto his cock and moved forward, placing your thighs on both sides of his hips. His tip brushed against the slit of your pussy and his body jolted. Your face looked inches away from his and the look in your eyes said a million words. You were waiting for approval, waiting for him to give you a confirmation. He whispered a weak ‘please’ and you obliged, lowering yourself onto him. 

His head crashed against his bed frame as he blissfully stretched you. You clenched around him, gorgeously warm and tight and the moans escaping his rosy lips filled the thick air. But you didn’t move and he opened his eyes inquisitively. “I asked you a question,” You said firmly and you didn’t need to finish the sentence for him to know you weren’t moving until he answered. 

“Almost every night since I’ve met you,” He answered timidly. He couldn’t even concentrate on his thoughts as you grinded on him. He watched the way your body flowed against him, your feminine moans beautifully filling his ears. “I can’t help myself. Look at you,” You rode him as he kissed your exposed neck, grabbing your breasts with both hands. He thought of you constantly whenever he tightened his hand around his cock. He came with your name on his tongue in the shower, when he couldn't sleep, and there was one time at work in a supply closet when you smiled at him while wearing a low-cut blouse. “You’re bloody gorgeous and you wear those tight, short skirts and—Fuck, just like that. Ride me just like that. Yes, yes, yes.” 

His voice was rough, his breaths shattering as you and your breasts bounced right in front of his face. “Tell me I’m your good boy, p-please, baby.” This was pathetic, he knew, but the praise was an addiction he didn’t know he had until it fell from your cum-soaked lips. He licked your nipples, sucking like you were the answer to his starvation. He was so needy, desperate for you. 

You encircled your small hand around his neck and he groaned. “Beg for it.” Was all you moaned as you sprung on him. The sound of your skin slapping against his and the wetness dripping from your pussy was fucking filthy and he was never going to forget it. This was permanently seared into his mind. 

His hand gripped your hair. “Please, please, baby.  I promise I’ll be good and—shit, you feel so good.” His bed creaked and he was certain his neighbors were going to complain tomorrow, but he didn’t care. “Tell me I’m your good boy, please. P-please, don’t stop.”

Your thighs burned but the pleasure was mind-blowing as his cock filled you, and you were certain there were going to be finger-shaped bruises on your hips and ass. “Fuck, you’re my good boy,” You whined, “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Fucking me so good, Steven.” 

His movements grew sloppy and fastened, he was roughly pounding into you and each thrust tore the breath from your lungs. “Y-yes, say my name. Say my name, baby. Say it.” He growled through clenched teeth and you couldn’t even see through the stars he was giving you. You mumbled his name loosely and you sounded drunk as you blindly repeated his name. “Can I cum? Please let me cum, please let me cum.”

Steven was begging to cum and you wordlessly nodded, already nearing your own release. “Open your mouth.” He didn’t hesitate and you dragged your fingers across his tongue, using his saliva to rub your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum—“ 

Steven moaned as he guided your hips and he filled your tight pussy with his cum. He thought coming in your mouth was the best feeling he’d experienced, but this was otherwordly.  He couldn’t think and the pleasure didn’t stop as you came seconds after. You tightened around him and basically milked his cock until he was certain you were trying to ruin him. 

He savored the sensation of him filling you with his cum, the way your body twitched and your chest heaved as you reveled in your glowing high.

Composing yourselves, you pushed your hair away and kissed him as you pulled him out of you. He groaned into the kiss and you smiled as he sighed happily. He was utterly content and nothing could ruin his mood as you laid beside him, wrapping your leg over his and pressed your head against his chest. He glanced down at you and you looked ethereal as you breathed peacefully against his chest, your eyes closed with a faint smile. He leaned and kissed your forehead. “I don’t suppose I can take you out on a proper date now?” 

You laughed and opened your relaxed eyes. “Thought you’d never ask.” You dragged your finger across his skin in random patterns. He almost pinched himself, somewhat convinced this hadn’t been real. You looked so pretty with the moonlight pouring into his room. 

“Work is going to be a lot more fun now.”

By: Marianna | 

head's in the stars

if the heavens ever did speak she is the last true mouthpiece every sunday’s getting more bleak a fresh poison each week

major mood

the book is so thrilling right about now so it’s like I’m sitting on needles 😱 but I still want to know what happens do you feel me?

Upping the Ante

Rick Flag (DCEU) x Reader

Summary: Rick keeps his promise. Follow-up to A Betting Man.

Word count: 2,129

A/N: This fic is dedicated to one of my beta readers, good friends, and fellow CEO of Simps, Inc. whose birthday is tomorrow. Happy birthday!

Warnings: Vaginal sex, rough sex, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, masturbation (male), overstimulation, dirty talk, a bit o’ praise kink

While you adjust your dress, Rick tosses the condom into the nearest dumpster and refastens his pants. He grabs you by the hips and pulls your pelvis flush against his. “Wanna make another bet?” he asks.

You narrow your stare at him, intrigued. “Depends on the bet.”

He tightens his grasp. “Come home with me tonight and I’ll fuck you ‘til you can’t see straight.”

“That’s not a bet, Rick.”

“No,” he drawls, stroking his thumbs over the dip of your waist. “But it is a promise.”

You stumble over the threshold and into Rick’s apartment, tongues twisting, breaths exchanging, and hands a blur as you tear at each other’s clothes. It’s a flurry of fabric, garment after garment dropping unceremoniously to the ground.

The front door slams. The lock automatically slides home as it shuts. Rick flicks on the light switch to the left of the door, and a standing lamp posted at the opposite side of the door frame blinks on.

“I swear, I never do this,” you mumble against Rick’s lips, walking backward as he leads you deeper into the apartment. You kick off your shoes and unzip your dress as you go. “I’m not usually the sleeping-with-strangers type.”

“Me neither,” he says. “Tell me something about you.”

Your words fall into his mouth as you prattle off a few facts about yourself: your last name, where you’re from, what you do, and so on. Rick unbuttons his shirt and strips it off his broad shoulders while he tells you a similar set of facts about himself.

“Flag,” he says. “Actually, Colonel Richard Flag, Jr., if you wanna get specific. Born in D.C., but I spend most of my time in Louisiana these days. Don’t ask me what I’m doing there, though, because if I told ya, I’d have to kill ya, and that’d be a real fucking shame because you are so fucking hot.”

“You flatter me,” you snicker.

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true.”

Rick brands the shape of his mouth across your neck, his lips hot and wanton on your skin. He bends slightly at the knee to tug off his jeans and boxer briefs, then straightens to his full, towering height and punts the clothes across the room.

He stalls and breaks the kiss.

Rick’s movements are slow as he grazes his short fingernails over your back, following the V-shape of the open zipper cascading down your spine. He hooks the tips of his fingers under the parted seam and drags the dress down over your shoulders, middle, and hips so it falls in a heap around your bare feet.

The light from the standing lamp near the door washes tantalizingly over your nearly naked figure. You reach behind your back, flick open the clasp tight against your upper back, and drop your bra to the floor.

You take a staggering step backward.

You salaciously scan Rick’s body: sculpted, carved, chiseled. He gleams under the warm lamplight, his skin kissed by sunset. Shadows shade the defined ridges of his muscles. Shoulders pulled back and chin raised, he holds himself with confidence, with strength, with power. His toned stomach shudders as he sucks in a breath.

His pupils expand the longer he stares at you. He trails his eyes over every curve, every edge, and every dimple of your body. He stares and stares and stares, until he can’t resist it any longer. He charges toward you, cups your cheeks, and draws you into another passionate kiss.

Your hands mirror the other’s as you skim your fingertips lightly down each other’s abdomens to the apex of your respective thighs. Rick dips his fingers between your folds and you wrap your palm around his stiff cock.

You exchange sighs, mimicking movements. You pump your fist in time with the steady pace of Rick’s fingers furling and unfurling in your pussy. Then, his thumb brushes against your clit. Your head tips back. You moan.

“Oh, fuck, Rick.” You bring your head back to center. “Will you please fuck me already?”

“Ma’am,” he drawls, “it’d be my pleasure.”

Rick coils his palms around the backs of your thighs and lifts you into his arms. As he carries you toward his bedroom, you claw at his shoulders. You rake your fingernails across his scalp and nip at his neck. A growl thunders in his chest as he kicks open his bedroom door and sits on the side of his bed, straddling you across his lap.

Rick turns on the lamp and blindly rifles through the drawer in the bedside table beside him. He pulls out an unopened box of condoms. He yanks open the box, rips one from the chain, tosses the box back into the bedside table, and shuts the drawer. His nimble fingers move quickly as he opens the wrapper and rolls the condom down his shaft. His eyes meet yours.

“Ride me, sweetheart,” he says.

With one hand, Rick lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance, and with the other, he guides you up onto your kneecaps, then down onto his shaft. You groan in unison as he bottoms out.

You start slowly, allowing yourself to feel every inch of the man inside of you—rock hard and demanding attention. You link your arms firmly around his neck and pin yourself even closer to him, welding your bodies together with the sheen of sweat dampening your chests.

Rick helps you ride him. His hand stays anchored at your waist while the other roves over your shoulder and around to your collar, his thumb brushing across your clavicle. He braids his fingers in your hair and pushes it out of your face so he can see you.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he says.

Fucking hell.

You slam your lips against his and knot your fingers in the mop of sandy hair at the back of his skull. You hasten the drop of your hips.

“Oh, fuck,” Rick groans as you clench around him. “Jesus fucking Christ. You gotta… You gotta stop that, sweetheart, or I’m gonna come too soon.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” you tease.

“Yeah, but I told you I’d fuck you ‘til you can’t see straight,” he says. “Can’t do that if I come before you do. At least…” He pauses, a sly smirk gracing his face. “The first time.”

Your lighthearted laugh rings through the thick air around you. “Well, you sure seem like a man with a plan. So, why don’t you show me what you got in mind, Boy Scout?”

Grinning, Rick snaps upright and pivots. He lands you on your hands and knees at the edge of the mattress. You feel his calloused palm smooth over your ass and ghost down the ladder of your spine. You shiver under his surprisingly light touch, and cry out at the contrast to the harsh thrust he delivers seconds later.

His skin slaps loudly against yours as he rails into you. The obscene, percussive sound mixes with your high-pitched whines and chiming whimpers, in harmony with Rick’s guttural groans. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls it taut at the root, adding just a little bit of delicious pain to your overwhelming pleasure.

Rick snakes his other hand around your hip and between your legs. Still plowing into you, he strums your clit feverishly. You feel your orgasm stir in your core. Burning bright, hot, and insistent, it grows as Rick maintains his frantic pace. He can tell you’re nearing the edge, on the cusp of release, and he speeds the motion of his fingers on the center of your pleasure to get you there.

The orgasm crashes through you in tidal waves of ecstasy, a monsoon of bliss. It floods your senses, washes away all tension, and cleanses you of the worry and anxiety that you usually carry in your muscles.

Your cunt flutters around Rick and he comes moments after you do, emptying himself into the condom. He lays his chest over your back. You listen to the heavy sound of his panting breath in your ear.

He inks a soft kiss into your shoulder, straightens his spine again, and pulls his softening cock from your pussy. You expect him to collapse onto the bed next to you, but instead, you feel his palm running down your calf to your ankle.

He yanks your leg out from under you and flips you onto your back. In shock at the magnitude of his bodily power, you meet his ravenous stare.

Rick slides down your body, eyes shining with hunger. He stamps winding kisses into your abdomen as he goes. Then, he lowers to his knees, spreads your thighs, and brings his face to your cunt.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to gawk at the head of the man buried between your legs. His shoulder blades roll, ropes of muscle sliding over the harsh angles of his bones that comprise his rugged frame: a rippling sea of raw masculinity.

The bedside lamp’s yellowish glow casts over Rick’s head, dyeing his brownish-blond strands pure gold. You comb your fingers through it and let the shimmering locks tickle your knuckles. Rick hums pleasantly against you, enjoying your touch as much as you’re enjoying his.

Rick takes his time, unrushed in the privacy of his own home. He moves his tongue languidly, savoring the taste of you and the sweet noises flowing past your lips. Your elbows buckle beneath you when he sucks your clit into his mouth, and you crash flat on your back into the mattress again.

You’re unaware of the words coming from your mouth, ignorant to everything other than the unwavering heat of Rick’s tongue on your pussy.

“So good,” you pant. “Rick… so… so good.”

“I know, baby. I know,” he says.

Rick urges the orgasm from you with the slide of his tongue and urgency of his mouth. He doesn’t subside after the first; he continues, just as he had earlier that evening outside the bar.

Arms spread wide—a sacrificial pose—your fists tighten in the sheets. Your head lolls from side to side. Your eyes flutter shut and your jaw drops. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure, white-hot and unrelenting. It consumes you, controls you, crushes you. You are at its will, and the will of the man delivering it.

With each lap and lick, feeling wanes from your limbs. It starts in your fingertips, a noticeable tingling, then moves up your legs, leaving them gelatinous, useless, and weak.

“Rick,” you slur, “I can’t. I… It’s too much.”

Rick glimpses up at your slackened face.

“I made you a promise,” he says, “and I intend to keep it.”

Gone is his lethargy. He returns with an insistent vigor that strikes through your limbs like an electric shock, and rips one last climax from your boneless body.

White flashes across your vision, then black, before Rick’s ceiling comes back into focus.

“Holy shit,” you wheeze. “Holy shit, Rick.”

Rick stands, one palm pumping his cock, hard again. He wipes the back of his other hand across his wet mouth.

“How was that, sweetheart?” he asks. You wheeze a laugh and bob your chin lazily in response. Rick speeds the pace of his fist around his shaft and takes a step toward you.

His eyes flash. “Tell me how good I made you feel.”

“You made me feel so good, Rick,” you say. “Never felt that good before.”

Rick’s chest heaves as the praises tumble freely off your tongue.

“You made me come so hard. God, you’re so good.”

His hand hastens. His abdomen contracts. His breath shortens. You watch his cock pulse under his grip.

He comes with a loud grunt, splattering streaks of cum across your tits.

Wracked by his orgasm, Rick keels forward, but catches himself with his palm, rooted to the mattress beside your head. His panting breath wafts over your face. He smears his fingertip through the warm lines and brings it to your lips. You taste him, hot and bitter, on your tongue.

With his gaze glued yours, Rick curls his free hand around the nape of your neck, tilts your head, and kisses you once more.

+ + +

On Sunday, you’re greeted at brunch with a squealing chorus of your name and a round of bone-crushing hugs from your friends. As you settle into the remaining vacant seat, someone thrusts a mimosa into your hand.

The former birthday girl says, “We missed you after we left the bar.”

“I know,” you apologize. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come over.”

“Tell me you had a good rest of your night at least,” she says.

You smirk against the lip of your glass.

“Don’t worry,” you assure her, “I did.”

+

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

Joel Kinnaman Characters Smut Masterpost

Recommended: Unlikely Heroes, Part 1 (Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader)

Want to join my taglist? Drop an ask, message me, or comment on this post.

Perma-list

@justanotherblonde23 @lisas-stuff-and-junk @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @kirsteng42 @xoxabs88xox @a-reader-and-a-writer @stardust-galaxies @averysblog @weallhaveadestiny @hawsx3 @dear-fifi @heresathreebee @knivesareout @lacontroller1991 @kingtwhiddleston @phelan-jaeger @riddikulus-obsessions @lunarxeclipse @moonlightstormrain @alainabooks143 @loverhymeswith @inthetikiroom @diehades @rachelh1992 @mattymurdocksbitch @primadxna-girl @jad3djay @kjlo-worldly @soggyjohnlemons @haileyromanoff @dopeqff @buckybarneshairpullingkink @yespolkadotkitty @phoenixhalliwell @nerdgrrlramblings @se-fucking-hun @bbwithaknife @stinkytootsies

“Flag-list”

@waspswidows @wariowap @goldiesworld @fairchildflag @dangelus @sweetlittlegingy @my-name-is-alice-ayers @rexorangecouny @torchbearerkyle @cluelessnitwhit

Kinnaman Characters Taglist

@strangunddurm @twinklelilstarkey @wxr-zxne

Ravenclaw Introvert 

cloudy floridian skies

what the hell is going on in this country?!

easy does it;

pairing: rick flag x female reader warnings: sexually explicit lang, swearing, they’re dumb :/& in love wc: 1.9k

an: you’ve been flirting with rick for a while now, i guess ya’ll just gotta fuck or something i dunno:/

Keep reading