Hi! I really love your art, your drawings are my favorite!
I don't know if you're still getting requests for drawings, but if you are, what do you think of one with Layla holding Steven's hand for the first time? Lmao he would freak out.
(sorry for any English mistakes, english is not my first language)
He melts instantly
thank you nonnie from the past, I'm sorry you had to wait this long
I love them but I don't always have a good inspo to be drawing the ship
Alright AO3 fanfiction writers for Moonknight, you have got to start tagging your stories correctly.
The point of tags is to assist people in searching for story elements/tropes they enjoy and also filtering out ones they don’t. It literally makes everybody’s life on the site easier.
Separate bodies - This is for when you write Steven, Marc, and Jake in separate physical bodies. No matter your opinion on whether you like or dislike this in fanfics it NEEDS to be added as a tag. This is not their cannon state of being.
Headspace - This is the more common tag for when Steven, Marc, Jake are interacting with each other in the innerworld or headspace. This tag can be used instead of separate bodies for example, having Steven comfort and hug Marc in the innerworld while Jake is fronting.
Don’t be afraid to let the author know they should add a tag either. Just be polite about it. In the end we all just want to read and share stories. These are just the big two tags I noticed people not consistently using, please feel free to add onto this post with more.
A sweet, sweet first time with Layla x Steven (approved by Marc, of course) 3.4k words.
Content: PIV sex (protected), oral (f receiving), fluffy sweetness
“You sure you want to do this, darling?” Layla asked as Steven stared at her with wide, startled eyes.
“Yeah—yes, definitely.” He had been dreaming about this moment for months. There was no way in hell he was backing out now.
She had him on his back, pinned underneath her weight as she pressed hot kisses into his neck. They had both had an idea that the night would end up here, but dinner and wine and laughter had made time get away from them. Steven and Layla had been talking for hours before they even shared a single kiss. After that, the make-out session was another lengthy endeavor, one that migrated from the sofa to the bed and now had Steven rock hard in his boxers.
They had talked of this moment before—with each other and with Marc. He’d come around to the idea fairly easily. Sharing with Steven was just part of his life now, and he couldn’t deny how happy his alter made his wife. They’d become close friends immediately after they met, and become something more nearly as quick. Finally, the whole thing between them was starting to feel complete. Steven, Marc, and Layla, together and sharing everything.
Almost everything.
“I’m just a bit nervous,” Steven admitted. Layla smiled against his skin, nuzzling him and making him release a breathy chuckle. “You’re so used to Marc… and he knows what he’s doing.”
“I don’t care about that. Don’t think about Marc right now. It’s just me and you.” She continued to suck along his collarbone, running her tongue along the edge of his v-neck undershirt. Steven switched between staring at the ceiling and squeezing his eyes shut tight, apprehension filling him to the brim.
He’d never done this before. When would he have even had the chance? And Marc and Layla were married, surely they knew each other’s bodies as well as they knew their own. Steven didn’t know anything at all. He ran his hand slowly along the curve of Layla’s back, trying to take a mental inventory of the shape. The softness, the warmth. His hand dove lower, but he was so scared to touch her that his skin barely grazed her panties as he followed the curve.
“Yeah, just me and you.” He repeated Layla’s words out loud, hoping they would give him peace of mind. Her tongue traced over his adam's apple daintily and he hitched a breath as another wave of blood rushed down between his thighs. Steven couldn’t help himself. Caught up in the feeling, he dug his fingers into Layla’s skin and grabbed a proper fistful of her ass. She keened at the feeling and ground her hips down into him.
“S-sorry!” Steven grumbled, thinking he must have hurt her. She shook her head and unlatched from his neck to look down at him.
“No, don’t be.” She took in the nervousness painted all over his face. Steven blushed at the way she peered into him, but Layla didn’t seem nearly as worried. “You’re overthinking this. I want you, baby. You. Steven Grant. And I don’t want you to hold anything back from me.”
“But what if I hurt you?” His voice was barely a whisper, almost a whine. “Or what if—what if I do something that you don’t like? What if I make myself look like a right fool?”
“You’d never,” she assured. Layla dipped to peck his lips, grinding into him again while she was at it. He chased her kiss as she leaned back again and he shuddered at the movement of her hips. “You don’t look like a fool, baby. You look beautiful. And sexy. And if you hurt me, I’ll tell you, but I’m a lot harder to break than you think I am.”
He nodded, reassured but still not convinced, and she leaned down again to latch their mouths together. The kissing, at least, Steven knew he was good at. They’d had ample practice already with that, and the wine had only made him more curious about the inside of Layla’s mouth. He licked and hummed into her until the lack of breath ached in his throat. When she pulled away, she crossed her arms along her waist to pull off her blouse.
“Oh, God,” Steven mumbled, both out of fear and awe. His heart was beating hard against his ribs, and he was mesmerized by the way Layla’s hair bounced as the fabric pulled it up and let it fall. Words fumbled from his mouth. “You’re gorgeous, darling. Bloody gorgeous.”
“So are you,” she replied without missing a beat. A wide, softened smile was spread across her face, which gave Steven a warm feeling in his chest. Yes, he was nervous. Yes, he was going to be rubbish at this, but this was Layla. This was his Layla. It would be perfect just because it was with her, and she would be happy just to be with him, too. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. So much.” He was so focused on her face that Steven hadn’t even noticed her now-exposed chest. His eyes danced along her neck and shoulders, enamored with her soft caramel skin and the way her collarbone stuck out when she moved. He ventured lower. Her breasts were held by a simple, pink-laced bra, cupped perfectly in his line of sight and right in his arm’s range of motion.
“Don’t be shy.” Layla noticed how his eyes hesitated just too high, and the way that his fingers twitched as his pupils followed the outline of the lace. He look startled for a moment before pulling his hand up to her bust. Steven traced the tops of the cups with the pads of his fingers while Layla ground into him again.
His apprehension was starting to be replaced by something else. With each roll of Layla’s hips, a bit of the fear chipped away and made room for a morsel of desire. Attention to Layla’s eyes and hair and smile began to falter to an eye for her breasts and her hips. Steven caught himself lingering on the skin of her belly or taking lasting glances at her neck and jaw. He felt the urge to buck up into her. More than that, the thought stuck in his mind to grab her waist and pull her down onto him.
“Layla,” he started. She raised her eyebrows as she ground a long, deliberate thrust against his crotch. Steven’s dick was aching in his pants now. He didn’t know exactly what to ask for, though. So he didn’t ask. “You’re so—so good. God, love. It feels good.”
He arched his back to prolong the contact. Steven snaked his hand around Layla’s back as she stilled her hips. He fiddled with the clasp of her bra for a moment before it snapped apart, causing both him and Layla to gasp. With the success of one-handed bra undoing giving him a much-needed boost of confidence, Steven braced himself on his elbow and scooted into a sitting position.
“There’s my guy,” Layla grinned as he pulled the straps over her arms. He pulled the cups away in a slow, smooth motion.
When Steven looked up at her, she was almost startled to see the pure lust on his face. Though lots of wonder remained, the fear was gone, and Steven looked like a man on a mission. Sweat made his curls cling to his face, his pupils were so wide his eyes might as well just be black, and his lips hung slightly open as he panted and darted his tongue across them. He looked like he could devour her. Like he wanted to.
“Steven?”
Without further thought, Steven leaned forward to press his mouth against her sternum. Layla whined at the surprise gesture, leaning into the heat of his tongue between her breasts. The taste of sweat was intoxicating. He pressed himself further, bringing his hand up to squeeze her skin as he sucked a mark along her breastbone. Her own hand shot up to his hair.
“Steven!” Each passage of his tongue sent shivers down her spine and heat between her legs. His breaths were peppered with quiet whimpers and he started absentmindedly bucking his hips as he moved his mouth over her nipple. Layla’s panties were almost soaked through. “Oh, fuck.”
“You alright?” He pulled away, worried. She scoffed at him as she glanced at his blushing face through her eyelashes.
“Don’t stop. More than alright.”
She tugged his shirt until it was bunched under his chin. Reluctantly, drunkenly, Steven leaned away long enough for her to pull it over his head. The same thought crossed her mind that had crossed his, causing her mouth to become dry and her tongue to tighten inside. The thought passed as Steven latched onto her breast and grazed the skin with his teeth.
Layla had gone into this thinking the focus would be all on him. After all, it was his first time, wasn’t it? Surely Steven didn’t know the first thing about pleasuring a woman. Surely he would be too wound up to even think of her needs. That’s how most men tended to be, right?
Oh, how she was wrong.
When she started to grind her hips into him again, Steven groaned and sputtered and tightened his grip. He didn’t stop his attack on her breasts, though. Not until Layla grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced his chin up so that she could give him another kiss.
“You ready?” She whispered between breaths. He whined into her mouth.
“Oh, God Yes.”
Layla placed her hand on the center of his chest, coaxing him back down against the mattress while her other hand worked at his belt buckle. His cock was straining helplessly against his work pants. Steven couldn’t hold back the whimper he let out.
“You sound so pretty,” she chuckled. “I’ve barely even started.”
The moment the belt unlatched, Steven’s mind went racing back to the nervousness of before. He tried to rationalize himself out of it. It’s the same body, right? She’s seen Marc naked a million times before. This is nothing. But the thoughts were doing nothing to calm him, and he shuddered as she tugged the belt out of its loops.
Oh, God. I can’t believe this is actually happening. What if I fuck this up? Layla is so perfect and smart and I can’t be nearly as good as her at this. Oh God—
Steven, relax.
Layla stepped off of her place straddling his waist so she could remove her own clothes. Steven was grateful for that, having been distracted and a little terrified.
Marc? What’re you doing here?
Trying to calm you down. You’re too in your head.
You haven’t been here the whole time, have you?
What? No! You just called me forward because you’re so nervous. You gotta relax.
That’s easy for you to say. You’ve had sex with Layla plenty of times. You’re an expert at it!
It doesn’t matter, Steven. I wasn’t always an expert. You have to start somewhere. Just stop overthinking.
I don’t know if I can.
Steven felt Marc mentally roll his eyes, and he was gone again back into the headspace before Layla had taken off her pants. Her panties were cute and lacy. They matched the bra that Steven had excitedly discarded somewhere beside the bed. Layla must have chosen a matching set just for him.
Because she would do anything for him.
“Just let me take the lead here, yeah?” She offered, seeing the fear that had returned to his features. He nodded and steadied his breath, and Layla planted a kiss on his belly before reaching for the button of his pants. Steven lifted his hips and helped her pull the fabric down off of his thighs. When they were off, she returned to her place atop his hips, one knee on either side of him.
He felt like jell-o when he met her gaze. She looked stunning above him, hair draped over her shoulders and lips plump from kisses. Her eyes were lidded and her cheeks were flushed, and Steven couldn’t keep his eyes off of her long enough to follow the hand that snaked under his boxers.
“Shit,” he gasped as Layla’s fingers grazed his tip. She wasted no time pulling his cock from under the fabric. Steven watched the hint of satisfaction run across her features as he tried to buck up into her hand. “That’s—oh, fuck.”
“That feels good, hmm?” She was smiling, and Steven had to squeeze his eyes shut as she flashed her teeth. He wanted to last long enough for her to enjoy herself. He wanted to savor this moment. “Just hold on for me, baby.”
Layla pulled a condom from the bedside table, ripping the wrapper with her teeth. He had to focus very hard on his breathing as she rolled it down onto him. Steven was sure his thighs were going to be sore tomorrow from how hard he was tending them. Then the rubber was on to the base, and Layla was lifting herself up to hover over him.
Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink it.
She pushed her panties to the side, and Steven registered for a split-second how absolutely soaked she was. Her fingers danced along her entrance for a few moments. Then, Layla started to lower herself onto him. The tip of his dick had barely grazed her cunt and Steven was catching a whine in his throat.
Don’t overthink it.
That was easy. Because as Layla sunk down another inch, Steven forgot altogether how to think. His mind went blank and his vision went static. His hands were steady on either side of her waist, but he was anything but composed on the inside. Layla took him to the hilt and her ass was flush against his hips. She stayed there for a moment, adjusting to him.
“Can I—” Steven heard himself talking, though he couldn’t feel his lips. “Can I move?”
She nodded, and both of them keened as he rolled his hips hesitantly into her. There was a pause. He looked up to see her head tilted back, her neck exposed to him. On her exhale, Layla let out a soft whimper. This time, she was the one to move.
God, she felt so good around him. So tight, so hot, moving at the perfect pace. Steven moved his hands up her back and pushed her forward, wanting to taste her again. When she was almost flush against his chest, only holding herself up for balance, she found a new angle that sent shock waves up her spine.
“That’s it, baby. Right there.” She clenched around his cock and closed the gap between their lips. They were both working, and failing, to keep the pace of their hips in sync. Steven’s control faltered as he grew close to the edge quickly. Every time he hit that spot inside her, she clenched down and pushed deeper onto him, and he couldn’t control himself.
“Fuck, Layla, I’m not gonna last like this.” He wanted to hold on longer. Just a bit longer. He was making her feel good. He could see by the way her eyes rolled and her arms tensed that he was making her feel good. He didn’t want to stop making her feel good.
“It’s okay,” she cooed. “Just let yourself go.”
“Not so soon,” he tried to protest. Steven was already at the edge, though, and Layla didn’t let up at all after his warning. She continued in her pace, grinding down on his dick and lifting off a half-inch before pushing down again. He couldn’t hold back his orgasm, and it was barreling toward him. “I’m gonna—”
“Cum for me, baby.”
His hips jolted and stilled, and Steven’s body radiated with pleasure. He’d gotten himself off plenty of times before, but this felt so much better. He hummed with satisfaction as she continued to ride him through his climax. A squeeze to her hips signaled that he was coming down, and she lifted herself off, disposing of the condom while she did.
For a moment, he just laid there. Panting.
“Bloody hell.”
“That was so good, baby.” Layla was beside him, curled into him. She was whispering into his ear. “You did perfect. I loved every minute of it.”
He collected his breath, then turned his head to face her. She looked overjoyed, but she also still looked as pent-up as ever. He hadn’t lasted long enough to make her finish.
“I know you’re probably tired now. I’ll go get you a washcloth and you can relax and—”
“No.”
She looked puzzled. “No?”
“I’m not done yet. It’s your turn.” He grabbed her shoulders and pressed his lips into hers. Layla immediately reciprocated the touch, whimpering into his mouth. Steven pushed her onto her back. His lips moved to her neck.
“What do you mean ‘my turn’?” Her question came out choked and desperate.
He pulled off to look at her properly. Steven looked a lot more confident now that he was on top of her, though he still looked like he only half-knew what he was doing. “I mean, I’m not going to let our first time end without you getting off.”
“Darling, you don’t have to—”
“Yes I do.” She wanted to keep protesting, but his eyes were pleading. Please let me do this. Please let me make you feel good. She relaxed underneath his touch.
He peppered kisses from her jaw to her bellybutton. Steven’s fingers hooked under Layla’s panties and pulled them off slowly, savoring the curve of her legs on the way down. He could barely stop himself from burying his face between her thighs the moment he got them off, but he steadied himself. He pulled her legs apart gently.
“If I’m not getting you there, tell me what to do.” He made her agree. Layla nodded, her eyes suddenly filled with desperation.
Steven ran his finger along her slit, collecting her arousal and feeling for which places drew a reaction from her. The top of her entrance seemed to be a good spot, as she whined when he pressed the pad of his index finger there. Steven slowly pushed his finger inside, drunk on the feeling of her.
She mewled, and he added another.
He moved his hand slowly, feeling inside of her the same as he had done on the outside. His hand was facing upward and he was pressing against her stomach when Layla’s whole body jolted forward.
“There!” She cried. Noted, he thought.
Within a few seconds of pumping his fingers, Steven lost the morsel of self-control that was keeping his mouth away from her cunt. She just sounded so pretty, and felt so good around his fingers. He brought his lips down right above his fingers.
Steven’s tongue danced along her entrance while his fingers quickened their pace and deepened their force. The noises coming from Layla were heavenly—and sinful as well—and Steven moved his mouth upward. He felt the little bud touch his lips, the one that caused her to shake underneath him, and he knew he had struck gold. He closed his mouth around her clit, hollowing his cheeks and licking stripes with his tongue.
He had never heard her so unhinged. Layla’s groans and whines increased in intensity and frequency. They mixed with expletives and her hand shot down to tug harshly on his hair. Steven smiled against her skin.
“Keep going,” she begged. He had no intention of stopping, anyway, but he made a point of humming his affirmation. Layla was rolling her hips into his face, grinding down to fuck herself on his fingers. She wasn’t holding anything back. “God, baby. Don’t stop!”
Layla arched her back and squeezed her eyes shut and she was coming around his hand. He marveled at the sound of her and persisted in his pace well after she cried out and tugged his hair so hard he yelped. Steven was sure to lick his fingers clean, lapping her up like water in the desert. He only lifted his head once Layla had been laying still for several moments, gasping for air.
“You alright, love?” His voice was soft. She chuckled lazily, not lifting her head to stare down at him. She tugged on his hair again, signaling him to move up to her chest. He obliged and found himself peering into her big brown eyes. Her smile was bright.
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