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klaustozier · 11 months

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brute ; miguel o'hara

SUMMARY: miguel is trying to work and you are not allowing him to concentrate.

warnings: miguel o'hara x fem!reader, MDI, miguel has sharp teeth as well as claws, remember that :); he will use his "web" to tie you up (I described how I thought it would be); oral (in both, but when you do it's rougher); slaps and spanking; degradation kink; mention of body hair (chest <3); nipple play; he is older (hihi); miguel swears in spanish (because i'm a whore); bigcock!miguel; there are no traumas here, miguel is not suffering from a loss, there is just fucking horny angry miguel here; no condom; light spit kink; no spoiler; and I described the way I think it would be easier to take his uniform off, I think the zipper is on the back, but it's not as sexy :3; begging; anal; gag

word count: 1.6k

english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes

i'm sorry for not deliverying the aib fics, but i'm kinda swamped and obsessed with spider-verse, so i wanted to make something different :)

hope you enjoy it!

"You're getting on my nerves", said the older man.

You smiled innocently and rubbed your face against his knee, "Am I?"

Miguel was trying to work, he knew he shouldn't have brought you to the headquarters. You had promised you would behave and you had even kept your promise for half an hour. You soon got tired of just watching him tinker with all that technology and analyzing realities, it was boring just watching. So, like a good bored person, you tried to entertain yourself however you could. Your form of entertainment didn't match much with what Miguel planned for the day, he wanted to focus on work, but he soon noticed that you were ducking under his desk and started to bite his thigh still covered by the elastic cloth of his uniform.

It was no use asking you to stop, you continued as if he had no authority.

"I brought you to keep me company and not get in the way", Miguel said irritably, his handsome jaw locking.

"I just want to be close to you", you whispered, biting his thigh again.

"I hate you."

You smiled and rested your chin on his knee, "It doesn't look like it", and laughing softly, you felt the volume he displayed in his pants.

He took a deep breath, pulled his mask off with one hand and tossed it onto the table, his free hand grabbing your hair, pulling your face close to his, "You're testing me and you're not going to like where this is going. So stop."

"Am I really not going to like it, Miguel?", you asked, smiling wickedly.

"You won't", he agreed.

The elder clenched his free fist and pointed it downwards, immediately you reached your hands behind your back, feeling the warm red rope holding your wrists in place.

"Does it hurting?"

"No, sir."

He smiled showing his sharp fangs, "You're gonna wish you weren't such a dirty slut", he slapped you across the face and ran his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Please, Miguel…", you smiled, "Just take those gloves off, por dios."

He smiled, his sharp teeth shining in the reddish light of the office, "Puta madre…", Miguel took off the gloves of his beautiful uniform and slapped you once more in the face, receiving kisses on the palm of his hand, as if you were asking for forgiveness for hurting his hand with your face.

His hands were so beautiful, full of veins on the back and with long, sharp claws ready to destroy whatever he wanted.

If the uniform wasn't so perfect for Miguel, if it wasn't tailored to his body, maybe you could control himself, but you could see his thighs, the outline of his cock and ass, there was nothing that could distract you more.

The brunette's thumb slid across your tongue and saliva fell from his lips, earning a soft moan, seeing you roll your eyes before being kissed. His sharp teeth scraped gently against your bottom lip. His tongue rubbed against yours, your hands locked behind your body, the bright thread holding them together.

Miguel pulled the small zipper down the center of his uniform revealing his strong, broad chest. The short black hair spread across the skin, delicately cared for. The zipper continued down until it was under his cock, which was hard, pressed against the cloth glued to his body, resting to the left, pulsing gently.

"Do you want it?", asked the brunette, pulling his cock from his clothes, so thick and beautiful, the veins pulsing in the soft skin, the red tip begging for attention. You nodded desperately, "Then beg."

"Mr. O'Hara, please, I need to choke on your cock, fuck my mouth, please… I'm such a good girl…"

"Ah", he stopped you, holding up his finger, the long nail glistening, "We're not going to lie."

You chuckled and lifted yourself up towards his face, licking his lower lip, "I know how to be good, I just don't like doing it that much."

Miguel laughed softly and gave you a soft peck, "Stick your tongue out."

Promptly, you complied. Miguel took his cock and gently spanked your tongue with the tip, the soft wet sounds making you purr. Without any delicacy, the oldest held you by the hair and sank his cock into your mouth, forcing your head until your nose was pressed against his belly.

You moaned low feeling his cock once again widening your throat. Miguel sighed and groaned low, starting to move your head away from you, his hips rolling in opposite movements, thrusting into your mouth. Initially the movements were smooth, but soon they began to accelerate.

"Ay, carajo", he whispered, his low voice making you moan.

Your eyes watered, no matter how many times he fucked your mouth, your body always reacted that way. Your hands tried to force against the red webs on your wrists, your legs squeezing together to ease the throbbing on your pussy. He held your jaw just so he could watch his cock slide through your tongue.

Miguel positioned his leg between your legs, laughing evilly when you started to rub against him.

Pulling you by the hair, the brunette forced you to look at him, your mouth completely drooling and red, your eyes lowered, breathing hard, "Aren't you ashamed of being such a desperate slut? How ridiculous. You get dumb as fuck just because of a cock in your mouth..."

"Forgive me for being like this, sir, I can't control myself… what do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

Miguel smiled and said nothing, just kissed you desperately. His tongue once again dominating yours, his sharp teeth biting down on your bottom lip, controlling himself not to draw blood. His lips devouring yours.

"Lay it face down on my table."

Immediately you obeyed him. The brunette pulled your pants down and grabbed your legs, pulling them apart. His hands squeezed your ass tightly, his thumbs moving the lips of the delicate pussy apart, sighing, seeing how wet you already were.

"Ay, coño… all wet… fucking slut", he growled, giving a hard smack on your ass, making you moan.

You moaned slyly, your legs shaking, your face crushing papers that were on the table, feeling the wet tongue slide through your pussy, until it reached your clitoris. His hands rested on your delicate ass, squeezing, his claws pressing against the skin.

"Miguel", you whimpered.

"Slut", he chuckled, going back to his work.

His lips and tongue had fun with your pussy. Your hands ached trying to hold themselves in place, your legs shook, moaning.

"Miguel", you whispered, "can I cum?"

He grinned, slapping you hard on the ass, "No."

"Miguel… please… don't do that to me…"

"Shut up", he whispered.

The bright red web circled your face, gagging your mouth, not allowing you to continue to beg or cry. But that didn't stop you from muttering.

"Carajo, you don't shut up", he laughed at the whimper you gave, laying his body over yours, "If I get you full of cum, you stay quiet?"

You nodded, getting a slap on the ass. A soft moan escaped your lips as the tip of his cock rubbed through the wet pussy, gliding effortlessly.

"Fucking pussy."

A strangled moan caught in your throat, your mouth still gagged, as his cock sinking into you all at once, going deep.

His hands held you squeezing the flesh of your ass, using it support to help with the movements. As he thrust into you, he forced your body to do the opposite, just going deeper and deeper.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. His moans low and rough, yours were muffled by the gag.

Your body started to shake on the table, you were about to cuj, but Miguel pulled out of you. He growled low seeing his cock all wet from all your pleasure.

"Open for me", he ordered, releasing your wrists.

You didn't have time to feel pain, your hands were routed by his rough hands to your ass, holding yourself open for him as he smeared saliva on your cock.

O'Hara positioned the tip of his cock in the tight entrance and began to force its way in. Big, strong body leaning over yours, crushing you against the table.

The gag was also undone so that the brunette could kiss you. His movements were less rough than before, but they were still accurate and made you whimper softly.

"You're going to be full of cum, princess", he whispered, his lips pressed against yours, his sharp teeth scraping on your lower lip on purpose.

"Miguel… please… I swear I'll be quiet, but let me cum… please… I beg you…"

"Of course, princess", he kissed you once more, his lips close to yours as he said, "Masturbate yourself for me."

And that's what you did, one of your hands went straight between your legs and you started masturbating frantically, desperate for relief. The other remained in place, leaving it open so he could continue to enjoy himself.

One of his strong hands tightened around your waist, keeping you in place and the other gripped your hair, kissing you desperately.

It didn't take long for you to cum even more after feeling his cum fill you. You panted heavily as he smirked and kissed you again.

"Now are you going to stop teasing like a whore?", asked Miguel getting out of you.

"Yes, sir, I will stop."

"Promise?"

"No."

He chuckled, giving you, and yet, another slap on the ass, "Now come on, let's get you straightened up and get you something to eat."

And Miguel pulled you by the waist, adjusting your clothes and his so he could take care of you a little before he could go back to work.

...

well, i hope you liked it <3

please reblog and leave a like if you enjoyed it! and leave a comment with your thoughts, i would love to know!

maybe if there is a lot of comments i can comeback with a hobie story <3

see ya next time.

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bit-dodgy-innit · 11 months

Text

Something In You Lit Up Heaven In Me

READ PART ONE

Pairing: Apollo (who happens to look exactly like Orestes in Agora) x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3.5k

TW/CW: Oral (m and f receiving), gods don't have refractory periods because I said so, petnames, a bit of innonence!kink and some praise!kink for that matter, P in V, a smidge of overstimulation, creampie, humiliation (but it's not our reader).

A/N: OH MY GAAAAASH THANK YOU ALL FOR THE OUTPOURING OF SUPPORT ON THIS SILLY LIL FANTASY OF MINE! I know have a couple more ideas/installments for this little AU! And hope you all enjoy!!!

Quick vocab word that'll be helpful: Archiereus = high/head priest

The rest of the day following your covert meeting with Apollo passed in a blur. Your mother claimed that you no longer needed to bother with your daily chores, but you insisted on doing them anyway. It wasn’t fair to Caris and besides, the routine was anchoring. It was one small shred of normalcy that you’d been able to maintain since Apollo upended your world. Even so, your mind was elsewhere as you washed the linens and swept the house, drifting through the evening mechanically.

Falling asleep was impossible. Your gaze was glued to the moon as it rose steadily in the sky, Selene’s radiance never wavering as she drove her chariot across its inky canvas.

At first, you dismissed them as a mere cluster of fireflies…until they made an uncannily neat and tidy line leading away from your window. You giggled, quietly so as not to wake Caris, and tiptoed out of your modest home. The insects led you through your village, past the temple, into the forest once more.

Apollo waited for you in another small, tucked away clearing. Despite it being the dead of night, the god’s gleeful grin illuminated the little corner of the forest. As enchanting as the fireflies were, they were no longer necessary when the god of light was present. Your feet carried you on your own accord and launched you into Apollo’s arms.

Now that it was only you and your lover, hidden away from prying eyes and scheming minds, you completely surrendered your desire. Apollo made you feel liberated, wild, when you made love.

“Want you to take me in your mouth,” he exhaled as you rolled around on the lush, soft grass, tangled within each other. Even though it wasn’t your first time seeing his member, you were unable to stifle your gasp when he shed his chiton.

“Yes,” you replied at once. Then, “but I’ve never–”

“Shhh–I’ll teach you,” he assured you, sprawling back on the ground.

You crawled closer to him. He disarmed you with his trademark grin, and the crinkling at the corners of his eyes instantly put you at ease. Apollo may have been an Olympian, but he was still a man. He took pleasure in the same way you mere mortals did.

Your gaze met his expectantly, eager for his instruction.

“We’ll start simply. How about you give the tip a kiss?”

You did as he said. His reaction was immediate, a pleased groan escaped his lips.

“Just like that, sunshine,” he spurred you on, “now see if you can take more in your mouth.”

A memory surfaced in your mind – Caris, sharing what she did to please a man in this matter. You recalled her advice to wrap your lips around his teeth as you sank down, and to use your hand to stroke any part of him you couldn’t fit into your mouth. It turned out, you were initially too keen, sputtering and having to pull off of Apollo after your gag reflex was triggered.

He cupped your face with one strong, sure hand, his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “Oh darling, there’s no need to rush.”

Like before, there wasn’t a trace of disappointment or derision on the god’s face. He traced his finger down your jaw, slipping in between your lips. You sucked on the digit instinctively, looking up at him with what you hoped were doe eyes, and Apollo moaned. “Mmm, I knew you'd turn out to be a little minx.”

You pulled off of the god’s finger to try again. It occurred to you that it would be difficult, if not unpleasant, to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth dry, so instead of trying to swallow down Apollo’s flushed cock immediately, you licked the circumference of his girth to wet him. The deity seemed to very much enjoy that, the action eliciting another deep groan.

“Oh Tiii-Titans, you’re like a little naughty kitten for me,” he cooed. “Don’t stop.”

Once he was properly slicked, you eased back down again. This time you opened your jaw wider, and though you only could take about half of him in, you wasted no time covering the remainder with your hand. It took a moment to teach them to work in tandem, yet you strove to sync the two movements. Your jaw began to ache slightly, the god’s mortal form was certainly not lacking, but you powered through. You wanted to be good for him, being good made you feel good, because you knew afterwards, Apollo would make you feel incredible.

Your lover never ceased his encouragement, his hand resting atop your head to guide you ever so slightly. A light tug on your hair made you pause, allowing him to ask, “Kitten, might I lead the way from here?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Apollo’s inquisitive, umber eyes narrowed at you, “Don’t refer to me so.” One look at your petrified face and he instantly amended, “There’s no need. I want you to use my name.”

Your face split into a wide, pleased grin. “Alright, my–Apollo.”

“My Apollo, I like that,” he grinned, then stood. “C’mere kitten.”

You rose onto your knees to level yourself with Apollo’s unflagging erection. He fed his cock back between your lips and instructed “You needn’t do a thing. Just pretend as if you’re yawning, it’ll help you take more.”

You wanted to nod in assent, but thought better of it given your full mouth. His fingers threaded into your hair, gently but firmly, holding you in place before he began to move his hips. Implementing his suggestion, you were shocked to discover how much more of his thick shaft penetrated your mouth. Apollo gave a few introductory thrusts, then began pistoning into you steadily.

Your first instinct was to shut your eyes, but you coaxed them back open to observe your lover’s face. His jaw was tipped up, his brows knit together, his lips parted. To see a god this vulnerable was a privilege even the highest priests and most devoted acolytes would never receive in their lifetimes, a privilege whose magnitude that was not lost on you.

On your knees for Apollo, you felt…safe. And not merely because that was the “natural” thing to do - to kneel for one’s god. Strangely, it wasn’t about that. The deity made you feel cared for, that you could set your burdens, however petty and innocuous they may be, down. He would shoulder them for a while, so that you could discover parts of yourself that you didn’t know existed.

Apollo pulled you closer to him, your nose now pressed against the taut skin of his belly as he used your mouth. It made breathing a bit harder, but the god’s rhythm began to falter soon after.

“Ohhhh sunshine I’m gonna—try to swallow it down if you can.”

You hummed your assent around Apollo’s cock, inadvertently sending him over the edge. He shoved his shaft nearly down your throat as his release dropped down it, all but singing your praise the entire time.

“Good girl kitten,” he painted the back of your esophagus with his seed, “taking it so well for me. You were so good for me.”

At last he extracted his spent member from your overstretched mouth. The entirety of your chin was covered in drool from your coupling, and you barely had a moment to wipe it away before Apollo’s lips were on yours. He plundered your mouth with his tongue as if he was to lick the combined taste of his cum and your spit from it. The thought sent a hot thrill down your spine.

“You did so well for me, darling.” He murmured once more after you’d broken apart. Apollo made quick work of your chiton, “Now what does my very good girl want?”

“I…” your lover had begun to trail his lips down the soft skin of your neck. It made it impossible to think, let alone speak. “I want you…inside.”

“Of course,” he agreed from where he was now dotting kisses across your collarbone.

Apollo continued his descent down your bare skin, kissing the tops of your breasts before pulling each nipple into his hot, sure mouth for a hearty suck. It felt so good that you changed your mind on how you wanted Apollo to ravish you, yet the sight of him sinking between your legs was too enticing to resist. He used the tip of his nose to part the seam of your sex before changing course and licking a long stripe between your folds.

“Mmmm, just as sweet as I recall,” he husked. Your reply came in a strangled mewl.

He chuckled darkly. "I know darling, but I must ready you.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Apollo slide his index finger through your wetness and into your heat. Relief flooded you – no longer were you clenching around nothing. Apollo resumed kissing your neck as he tucked a second digit in along with the first. You met his movements eagerly, vaguely aware of how swiftly you’d shed the trope of the blushing virgin. Before, the god’s ministrations had felt like too much, now they were not enough. You needed the god’s hardness inside of you now.

Despite being reduced to pitiful whines and whimpers, Apollo understood you.

“You want your god’s big cock, don’t you?”

You practically sobbed in agreement. But although the deity was a generous lover, he had a wicked streak. One that Apollo decided to unleash when he demanded right as he finally applied pressure to your bed, “Words, kitten.”

“Yuh-YES!” you cried. It felt heavenly, but it wasn’t enough to bring you to climax. You legitimately feared you may go mad from the anticipation.

“Good girl,” He parted your legs wider and locked them around his ample hips. He paused briefly to marvel, “what an offering you make for me.”

Apollo proceeded to slap the head of his arousal on your clit, then at last he entered you in one smooth of his hips. The feeling of becoming one wrung another cry from you, while a deep, satisfied rumble sounded from Apollo’s chest.

There wasn’t much talking after that. It was unnecessary. The god’s gaze locked onto your as he plowed you, first holding firmling onto your sides to steady you, then they crawled back up to breasts to pluck at your nipples. You were definitely going to go mad between the acute, concentrated ecstasy he was drawing from your pebbled peaks along with the astounding stretch and burn of his cock plowing into your channel. All the while, the swirling brown of Apollo’s eyes bore into yours, gauging your pleasure - how he could heighten it, how he could surprise you, how you would bit down on bottom lip whenever he changed angle slightly.

The last observation spurred an idea from the god. He bent over you further, catching your wrists in his hands and pinning you to the ground beneath you. The shift allowed him to hammer a special, previously unknown spot within you, and for your vision to go a burning, blinding white.

“AH! Ohhhh…Apo-Apollo,” you keened.

“That’s it, c’mon sunshine,” he urged you, now slamming his pelvis into yours, “Say my name. Scream it so that my kin can hear it on Olympius, and I’ll let you come.”

“Apollo!” You were not one to disobey your god, “Oh stars above, Apollo! Holy Her–APOLLO!! ”

Your orgasm exploded seemingly from the spot your lover’s cock was not battering outwards. You convulsed as the pleasure rushed from your core throughout your spasming frame to the very tips of fingers and toes. There was no way to ride it, let alone fight it, the ecstasy Apollo elicited from you demanded nothing less than complete surrender.

At last, the euphoria in your body began to subside. You desperately gasped down more oxygen, yet, Apollo’s hard, thick member was still thrusting into you relentlessly. Next thing you knew, the deity had collected you into his arms and lifted you to sit on his lap.

You winced at the deeper penetration and your growing sensitivity, but he whispered into your ear, “I know kitten, but I need a little more and Titans, you feel so damn amazing.”

You pressed a kiss into his temple, now damp with sweat, and like before, surrendered your body to your god. He moved your hips for you, essentially fucking yourself on his cock, meeting each and every downstroke with an untiring vigor only an Olympian could possess.

Suddenly, his hold around your torso tightened, and you felt his manhood pulse within you. A deep growl reverberated from his as his seed flooded your channel. Your head was spinning, so much so that you barely realized you two fell back on the grass again.

Apollo rolled so you were beneath him once more and eased himself out of you.

“Now, that is a sight,” he moaned as he watched his release drip out of your entrance.

“Is it?” you panted.

“Mmm indeed,” he promised, gingerly probing your puffy pussy to collect his spend. This time, he brought it to his own mouth, “Hellfire, we make quite the concoction.”

“I…” you eyes were fluttering closed, “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

The god pulled you close once more. “I am beyond delighted. You were magnificent, my little kitten.”

***

You didn’t remember returning home, but your mother’s voice barking your name to wake was unmistakable. It wasn’t until she jarred you into consciousness that you realized you were back in your own bed, and thankfully, clothed.

“You were due at the temple a quarter of an hour ago!”

Grogginess prevented you from sniping back at her that your tardiness wouldn’t anger the god, since Apollo was the very reason for it. Instead, you held your tongue, and lethargically, but as quickly as you could, you rinsed your face and dressed. Your mother shooed you off to the temple with a small cloth holding berries and cheese in tow.

You trudged up the hill to the temple, you’d never liked going there to begin with, but now that your presence was compulsory, it maddened you. The more time you spent with Apollo, the more you despised the structure meant to venerate him and the men who inhabited it claiming to act in his name. The god himself and his priests seemed to be two disparate parties.

Distressed shouts and —was that bleating?— jolted you from your thoughts. You ran the rest of the way to the temple’s entrance. Something was wrong.

Breathlessly, you arrived at the temple’s sanctum to find the priests and acolytes in a frantic scrum and…a goat.

You caught the eye of one of the younger priests. “Don’t we usually sacrifice ravens to Apollo?”

The priest, Karolos, you believed his name was, gulped. “Th-that…that is the Archiereus.”

Now it was your turn to gulp. Your eyes widened, then darted up to the large statue of Apollo that looked over the chaos.

“I need privacy,” you told Karolos lowly, “somewhere I can be alone.”

His brows furrowed, only for realization to dawn on his features a moment later. “Are you going to…?”

“I’m going to try.”

“Come with me.”

As he led you through the madness, you pressed further. “What exactly happened?”

“We all woke up from a terrible, seemingly shared, nightmare. The god appeared to us and we could see ourselves being roasted alive as the temple burned,” the priest began, “and the goat—I mean, the Archiereus, was in his chambers…eating his own bed linens when we rose this morn.”

“Gods,” you groaned.

“We’re very sorry.”

Your gaze shot to the ground at the mention of your violating confirmation as Apollo’s latest lover.

“Truly,” he averred, “I knew it was wrong but they didn’t listen—“

“Stop,” you had no interest in reliving that terrifying day. “But thank you. Truly.”

Karolos sent you a small grin and then opened the door to what seemed to be the head priest’s chambers, half-eaten bed linens and all. The room was imposing, large, and most importantly, tucked into a corner toward the back of the temple complex.

The bedchamber seemed even more intimidating when you were left alone within it. You hadn’t the faintest idea of how to summon Apollo, or if you even could. Therefore, you defaulted to the simplest of methods. You looked up, yet closed your eyes, and called out this name.

“Sunshine.”

His voice was close. Very close, since not a second later you were pulled back into the deity’s arms. You startled, a very undignified and unappealing yelp escaping you.

You pivoted in Apollo’s embrace to face him. “You enjoy frightening me, don’t you?”

“I enjoy arousing you in any and all forms,” he countered wryly.

“You must change him back.”

Apollo’s face fell infinitesimally before resuming its usual brightness. “Of course. As soon as you admit how comical it is.”

You huffed. “Apollo.”

He shrugged as if the power wasn’t solely and completely in his hands.

“What’s this about a shared nightmare?”

“I promised you not to harm them,” the god responded, frustration creeping into his tone, “but these provincial dolts needed to be taught a lesson. They cannot flout me, and by extension you, in such a brazen manner.”

Arguing was pointless, you knew this. Because Apollo was right. As much as you felt as the reluctant center of the issue here, it actually came down to the priests and their respect, and therefore fear, for their patron god.

“While the goat is very comical, I have to say, I think a slug would’ve been more fitting,” you offered with a small smile.

Apollo laughed, his expression beaming once again, and captured your lips.

When you breathlessly broke apart, you inquired, “Does this mean I no longer need to come here everyday?”

“Darling, you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

“I suppose so, but if you wanted me to, I would.”

“Always so willing to please,” Apollo groaned in satisfaction, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

Before you could counter that you didn’t he nudged his groin into your hip to give you one. You nearly jumped at the feel of his arousal pressing through two flimsy layers of your clothing.

The god continued, “However, I believe there are better uses for your time too.”

“Thank you, my–my Apollo.”

“Oh you truly want me to take you on that bumpkin Archiereus’s bed, don’t you?”

The god began backing you toward the bed in question, though you managed to slip out of his grasp just in time.

“Apollo!”

Another peal of laughter from the god. “My desire for you has no bounds.”

“As does mine,” you offered, “I swear it. However, I have to go back and live amongst these people, and I’d prefer to be able to look some of my neighbors in the eye.”

The god studied you, as if the fact you went back and lived among other people had only just occurred to him when you spoke it. However, maddeningly all he said was, “I see.”

You fidgeted under the intensity of his gaze. “I very much enjoyed our time together last night though. I cannot remember if I told you.”

He grinned. You would never tire of it. “Good, then I shall see you tonight?”

“Yes. Please.” your answer came without hesitation.

“I’ll send you a route again,” he vowed, stealing one last impassioned kiss from your lips.

“I shall count the moments,” you whispered.

“Go,” he urged you softly. “I’ve taken care of the Archiereus.”

A commotion sounded from what you thought was the temple’s sanctum. It startled you, and when you turned back to your lover, he’d disappeared.

Karolos was not waiting at the door when you emerged from the high priest’s chambers, much to your relief. So you hurried to where the shouts were emanating from.

The Archiereus had been changed back alright. He lay in the sanctum stark naked and humiliated, barking for a cloth to cover his modesty when you arrived on the scene. Yet he cowed immediately at the sight of you and in a truly baffling role reversal, kneeled at your feet.

“Please, we never meant to harm you, nor anger the mighty Apollo,” he all but blubbered. It was arresting, and honestly, you thought you might have preferred his haughty countenance more. “Your claim was a bold one, we simply sought to substantiate it, however if I could take it back, I would. I beseech you for forgiveness.”

You didn’t wish to forgive him, however you didn’t wish to condemn the groveling cleric either. The happy medium it seemed was to respond, “The god is appeased. I will no longer be present for your daily rituals.”

With that, you turned and left the oppressive structure, unsure whether to stifle or welcome the exhilarating sense of authority following through you. It was truly the first time in your life you’d ever felt powerful.

A/N: Ehhh...we like? Seriously, y'all give me the motivation pound out more of this! I already have an idea of another god I want to bring into the mix 😜

Taglist:

@whatthefishh , @thhriller , @simpforbritgents , @oof-its-roobi @pakhiya @fandxmslxt69 @twwcs, @damnzelsoul @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @dameronscopilot @sharin4readers @ireallymadeamoonknightblog

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x y/n #apollo #oscar isaac greek god au #oscar isaac thirst hours

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thot-of-khonshu · 2 years

Note

Please make a story with Steven grant overstimulating reader watching her legs shake and eyes roll 🤭

Explicit 18+

Content: Unprotected sex (p in v), Creampie, a sprinkle of praise kink, overstimulation

There's a duality to Steven Grant.

There's the sickeningly sweet, lightning quick witted man who showers you with gifts and chocolates. He stares at you across the dinner table with adoration in his eyes when you have spinach stuck in your teeth merely for the fact that he can't believe you're with him, let alone sharing meals with him.

He gingerly holds your hand through museum exhibits, whispering in your ear about tales and fables interwoven with history. Just the way he speaks about what he loves is riddled with passion.

It shouldn't be a surprise to you that he makes love passionately, but it is. You expected him to be as timid as he is asking for extra salad dressing to a server. But here he was, hovering above you. Panting and whispering absolute filth as if it was poetry.

He fucked with all the love he had to give and he was a lonely man before you.

"Go on, love. Please keep moaning for me, you sound so beautiful." Steven gasped, broken grunts as he pumped into you with a rhythm that was absolutely carnal.

Your moans involuntarily came out, your body bouncing under his as he kissed at the skin in between your breasts. He pressed down hard at your clit rubbing solid circular strokes until you felt yourself break apart. You came in a fractured groan into his mouth but instead of giving you a moment to come down he just kept going.

"St-Steven," You moaned, grabbing his broad shoulders as he kept thrusting harshly into you.

"I'm s-sorry love but you just feel so bloody good. Can you give me one more? Please?" He said over the sound of your skin slapping together.

You couldn't take the pressure, feeling your body start to shake as Steven fucked into you harder, the friction between you not even being enough. His pace was getting sloppier, his balls deep into you as you watched the sheen from your wetness as he kept fucking you.

"Please, love. I can't last much longer but I need you to cum again before I do." Steven whimpered. He slid his thick two digits down to your clit again, rubbing frantically as he kept chanting please, please, please.

His pleading did it for you and you shook violently as you came on his cock. You clumsily gripped a sheet and his hair, grabbing onto anything you could at the moment to ride out your high.

Steven wasn't far behind you, emptying himself into you with his warmth as he groaned your name. As he pulled out, cum seeping out of you.

The duality of Steven Grant was shocking, but two sides to the coin of a very interesting man.

#steven grant x you #steven grant #moon knight #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #steven grant x y/n #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x reader #moonknight #oscar isaac x y/n #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut

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pinchofhoney · 1 year

Text

just one word

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader (hints of jake lockley)

word count: 3.8k

warning: disociative identity disorder (did), stalker theme in the lead role, hurt/comfort with a little bit of fluff

summary: You may not be aware of their existence having only met Steven, but no Marc Spector alter will let anything happen to you.

a/n: it’s not my favourite piece of writing, but it needs to be said - steven grant is my best boy, i love him so much!! he's my comfort character and even though it sounds ridiculous he really means a lot to me. i need real steven grant in my life:(( text in italics is a flashback!

my mailbox is open to your requests all the time. also, every like and reblog is very much appreciated!!<3

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

tag list: @wolfmoonmusic

You were sitting in a greenish armchair, standing against the wall of a room cluttered with books, starring at your bruised hands, while uncontrollable tears ran down your cheeks. The adrenaline that had driven your body to action just a moment ago was slowly making place for pure fear, and every creak of the wooden floorboards made you flinch as you glanced panickedly towards the source of the sound.

“Darlin’?” you heard your boyfriend's voice. You slowly raised your gaze to the man with the curly hair, who was now crouching in front of you, placing his hand on those of yours, “Can you tell me what happened?”

His voice was calm and his movements gentle. His face, on the other hand, portrayed both confusion and worry as his chocolate eyes wandered over your face. Seeing you take your hands from him in response to his question and lower your stare again, he looked around the room as if looking for someone to help him.

“Love, you need to tell me what happened so that I can help you” he stood up from his crouching position, helplessly placing his hands on his hips.

Meeting another lack of response from you, he sighed deeply, running his hand over his tired face. It was late and Steven had had two sleepless nights that you didn't know about. The only thing he was dreaming of at the moment was getting back into the bed you had dragged him out of with your unannounced visit and getting at least a few hours of sleep. The situation in which he sleepily stood in front of a crying you in his grey pyjamas wasn't the most comfortable situation of his life, but after all, he couldn't leave you in such a condition.

He glanced up at the ceiling and tried again.

He squatted in front of you this time without touching your hands, instead placing his own on your knees, “Would you like a warm drink? I have your favourite tea” he asked, gently stroking the fabric of your jeans with his thumbs. You nodded nervously, to which Steven asked another question, “And later, will you tell me why are you crying?”

“You- You've already met him” you said quietly, without looking at the man in front of you. The tears had stopped dripping from your eyes a while ago, but you slurped your nose every now and then, and slight hiccups made themselves known at even intervals.

“What do you mean, love?” you couldn't see his face, but you were sure he was wrinkling his thick eyebrows in confusion.

You were a student in your final year of literary studies and every day on the college campus you met hundreds, if not thousands, of different faces. The only people you recognised were professors and students who stood out in some way in your class groups over the years. For some time, however, you had the feeling that every day on your way between classes you met the same man with a rather distinctive beauty.

Between classes, because he was not a member of any of the groups you attended lectures with, and yet it seemed as if he knew your schedule perfectly.

The boy you've been seeing lately on a daily basis seemed like he could be your age. His head was crowned with a tumble of ginger curls and his face was adorned with wire-rimmed glasses. With his style of clothing, he was reminiscent of a classicist writer, and his hands were often full of books, so you assumed that he was either also studying your major or something similar.

He usually kept some distance from you, not accosting you or drawing much attention to himself, but the moment you exchanged a few words in the university library, you noticed that the redhead felt much more confident in your company. It was enough to let him sit at your table while you studied, and he started not only greeting you every day, but also initiating short conversations and even inviting you for coffee, walks in antique shops, or to his place.

Despite his friendly appearance and calm manner, something about him didn't sit well with you and you didn't feel comfortable in his company, so you declined the redhead's invitations as nicely as you could, but he didn't give up.

More and more often you saw him in other places besides on campus.

You'd see him at the café where you bought a vanilla latte every day before your morning classes. You would see him during the afternoon walks in the park across your flat, that you loved to take when the sun was shining outside your window. You even seemed to see his red curls flashing between the shelves during your weekly grocery shopping.

All this made you feel like you were slowly going crazy, but after all, he wasn't a threat, so you didn't want to tell anyone about him.

You didn't want to, but the moment you met him at Steven's workplace made you change your mind.

That day Steven was working until 5pm, so you agreed to drop by the museum on your way back from the afternoon lectures and then go out to eat together. Because of your timetable, combined with the writing of your final thesis, and his schedule at work, it was difficult for you to meet every day. Unfortunately, the 24-hour day was too short and your daily chores often took up a good part of it, so even quick meals eaten together were satisfying.

After entering the museum, you greeted the security guard, who you already got to know better, and with a bright smile headed to the gift store where Steven was an employee. You knew that his boss didn't like it when you visited him because she claimed that even if there were no customers in the store you were the one big distraction, so you made sure by peeking at your watch that there wasn't much time left until Steven finished his shift.

Taking the first step beyond the threshold of the store, you wanted to wave hello right away, pretending to be a hesitant potential customer looking to buy some silly souvenir offered by the museum, but when you saw who your boyfriend was talking to, you immediately stopped, and the whole smile disappeared from your face.

Hearing some small noise that you had caused with your arrival, Steven peeked out from behind the red head belonging to a boy whose existence you would like to forget and, seeing you, smiled. Before the man, who was unfamiliar to Steven, had time to turn his head in your direction, you shook off the shock and moved slowly toward them.

“Y/N, meet Frank. He will be our new employee” your boyfriend announced with a happy smile. You, on the other hand, looked at the presented boy with subtle confusion. Frank? You'd give your hand to cut off that he introduced himself to you by another name at the university.

“I think we already know each other” you moved your gaze to the cuddly toys portraying Taweret, standing near the cash register, when the redhead didn't take his eyes off you.

“Did we?” he asked, which caused you to look at him again, gently wrinkling your eyebrows. “I'm sure I'd remember a girl like that if I'd met her before” he gave you a charming smile and you blinked blankly several times without saying anything.

He behaved very differently on campus. He wasn't so bold, and you certainly wouldn't think he could flirt with you in the presence of your boyfriend. Or maybe ‘Frank’ didn't know that the man he was talking to just a moment ago was in a relationship with you? Maybe it was just some not-so-funny coincidence? Could this man's actions be called coincidental when he has been showing up everywhere you go for over a month now?

“Darlin’?” Steven's voice reaching you snapped you out of your thoughts. You shook your head in embarrassment, shifting your gaze to the man on the other side of the counter, realising that you had been staring blankly at the redhead for a longer moment.

“Yes? Sorry I- sorry” you said quickly, not knowing how to act.

“I asked if you would stay a minute with Frank while I tell Donna I'm leaving. Are you all right though? You turned pale…”

“Yes, of course, go” you answered immediately, ignoring the man's last question, then sent him a forced smile. “Make it quick, I'm hungry already” to emphasise your words, you glanced checkly at your watch and then followed as Steven ran to find his boss.

“What are you doing here?” you asked when your boyfriend disappeared from your sight, shifting your gaze to the redheaded boy. At the same time, you took a few steps away from him, standing in a way that people who were outside the shop could see you. You didn't know what might pop into this madman's head, so you preferred to take every precaution. The boy seeing this burst into silent laughter, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Aren't you happy to see me?” he asked, tilting his head gently to the right, with an ironic smirk on his face.

The boy who stood in front of you was definitely not the boy you had the occasion to share a table with in the university library, and now you have confirmed this even more.If he took this version of behaviour at the time of meeting Steven, how would he behave if you agreed to accept one of his invitations to meet him? A shiver went down your spine at the very thought of what could happen then.

You looked quickly over your shoulder, checking to see if your boyfriend was already on his way back to you, but when you didn't see him anywhere on the horizon, you returned your gaze to Frank.

“I just wanted to see what it was about the guy who often hung around by your side” he answered the previously asked question while taking a step towards you. “One should not judge a book by its cover, but really? A shop worker in a museum gift shop, who spreads the energy of a man in his 70s and a seven-year-old at the same time? You can do better, Y/N”

You furrow your eyebrows in frustration, hearing what he says about Steven, “And who would be better in your opinion? You, Frank? If my memory serves me right, back in the library your name was Nathaniel, so perhaps you'd like to explain your point about pretending we've never met?”

“I know the entire schedule of your week, and you're asking why, in Steven's presence, I pretended we'd never seen each other?” as the boy standing in front of you finished his question, you noticed his sight move to something behind your back. “Take care, we'll be seeing each other even more often now” he smiled in a fake way, then passed you and left the shop.

You turned around after him and, seeing his ginger head talking to Steven a few steps away, you walked up to the counter, where you leaned your hands against it and sighed shakily, closing your eyes, hanging your head down.

When, after a short while, you felt someone's hand on your back, you jumped slightly, immediately turning to face the stranger. This stranger turned out to be Steven, who was completely not expecting such a reaction from you, because he was now standing with his hands gently raised in the air.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked confusedly, and you could hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

“No, of course not” you assured immediately, then bit your lower lip thinking what you should do next. “I think I need to tell you something… about- about your new co-worker” you said lowering your gaze to the floor.

“What is it, love?” Steven asked, bringing an even softer tone of his voice than usual and taking your hands in his. You looked at him again as he gently squeezed your hands, wanting to give you encouragement.

“Let's go to your place. Anywhere where we won't be listened to…” you looked around tentatively, making sure you were alone in the shop. Seeing your reaction, Steven also got a look around and then moved his hands to the sides of your shoulders to softly rub them.

“Of course, yes” saying that, he walked behind the counter, from where he took his jacket and put it on himself. “Donna will come to start the next shift soon” at the man's words, you nodded, looking nervously around the room again, then put your arms around yourself and sighed quietly.

When Steven's boss came to change him behind the till, you didn't even pay attention to her snideness directed towards you. At that moment, all you wanted was to sit down in a place where you felt safe and let out everything you had been hiding from everyone for the past months.

You didn't know the intentions of the red-haired boy who had recently become your second shadow, but knowing how he already wanted you, you were afraid he might hurt Steven.

After entering his flat and locking the door with all the locks, you quickly took a seat on the old couch and chaotically started to tell him about Frank, who is actually Nathaniel, but actually you are not even sure about that. You told him how you had noticed him at university, you described him your meeting in the library, as well as his nudging invitations and seeing him afterwards everywhere you went. You also didn't forget to repeat to him the words the redhead said when Steven left the gift shop.

Even if the sentences you spoke didn't always make grammatical sense, the man listened carefully while sitting next to you. When your runny eyes paused for a longer time on his face, he would nod, showing you that you had his one hundred per cent attention all the time.

That was one of the traits of Steven that you loved so much about him. No matter what was going on, he was always there for you. He listened to what you had to say. He helped as much as he could. You felt a huge amount of support in him and you knew you could always count on him. And in the same way, he could count on you, even if he didn't often take advantage of this opportunity.

“Darlin’?” you heard Steven's voice pulling you out of your head, where a moment ago the memory of his first meeting with Nathaniel was looming.

You blinked several times, shifting your gaze to the man's chocolate eyes, recalling what he was asking before you let your thoughts wander, “Could you- could you please repeat?”

“What do you mean by saying I’ve met him before?”

You were ashamed that you hadn't noticed Steven's exhaustion before, instead just barging into his flat practically in the middle of the night, but a moment ago your only focus was on being somewhere safe, next to your person.

“Nathaniel. It was Nathaniel, Steven. I-” you stopped suddenly, feeling tears starting to come to your eyes again.

“It’s okay, everything's fine, love. You're safe here” saying this, he grabbed your hands, which this time you also willingly squeezed. “What did he do?”

You could have sworn that asking the question there was some kind of change in his eyes and his British accent suddenly disappeared, but you quickly blamed it on an overstimulated and tired mind. The man crouching in front of you was watching your face carefully, with his eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his face, just a moment ago longing for sleep, was now more tensed.

“I spent half a day with Evelyn working on that project I told you about recently. We were in a cafe near Bloomsbury and then- then each of us went its own way. I was going to go straight home, but-”

“All right, let's skip it. What did Nathaniel do, Y/N?” you were not given the chance to finish because Steven interrupted you in the middle of the story, in a harsher voice than always. He had never interrupted you in this way, so you were a little taken aback, but seeing the hurried movement of the man's hand, you took a deeper breath and started talking again.

“I met him passing through the park, across from my flat. He- I don’t know, he was behaving strangely. He looked like he was drugged by some sort of substance, and when I tried to-” you paused to calm your nerves a little as your voice began to shake. Steven let go of your hands and stood up, now looking down at you with his jaw clenched with anger. “When I wanted to ignore him and rush home, he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me, saying some- I don't know, I was so scared, Steven.”

The truth was that you knew perfectly well what the man you met was saying to you, but you were unable to repeat it out loud.

“You should go to bed, Y/N. Stay here tonight.”

You watched Steven walk over to the wardrobe, from which he took out the clothes you always slept in when you were in his place, and then handed them to you.

“I have to get something done, I'll be back soon.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as the man returned to the wardrobe as if nothing had happened and quickly began to throw off his pyjamas, changing into a plain black t-shirt and jeans.

“Steven?” you asked, getting up from the greenish armchair and putting the clothes you had been given aside. The mentioned Steven, however, didn't answer you, which wasn't his style, so you confusedly looked around the room, not knowing what was going on. After changing his clothes, the man walked to the door, where he began to put on his shoes. Every now and then he kept glancing in the mirror at the same time, looking as if he was thinking deeply about something.

“Where are you going, Steven?” you asked, taking a few steps toward him. The man only made eye contact with you through your reflection in the mirror, without even giving you a quick look over his shoulder.

“He is not here” you heard, and after a while the brown-eyed man left the apartment.

You stood confused in the middle of the dusty living room, staring at the door that was closed a moment ago.

What?

You felt like you had gone completely insane already. First you had to run away from a crazy man who should be isolated from other people, and now your Steven is telling you that Steven is not here? Maybe it's just a dream? An extremely crazy dream, but still a dream? You began to carry on an internal monologue, while walking nervously back and forth.

Finally, you stopped in front of one of the bookcases and quickly pulled your phone out of your pocket. Its screen was broken, which was the result of the fact that it had fallen out of your pocket during your escape from the red-haired aggressor, but it was usable, and that was the most important thing. You went into the call history and quickly found Steven's number, then put the phone to your ear, listening for some signal. Unfortunately, almost straight away you heard a mechanical voice saying that the person you were trying to call either had their phone turned off or was out of reach.

You were awake when Steven turned up at the door to his apartment again. You hadn't even changed into the clothes you had been given before he left. This whole time in his absence you sat like on pins, unable to calm your thoughts. You tried a few more times to contact him, knowing that it wouldn't help anyway since his phone was off, but you didn't know what to do with yourself.

When he came inside, you were sitting on the edge of his bed, nervously stomping your foot and scratching the cuticle near one of your left hand nails.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but as soon as you noticed a disheveled Steven with a cut lip, you immediately jumped to your feet.

“Oh God, Steven… What happened to you?” you asked, rushing over to him as he backed up against the wall, kicking off shoes from his feet.

The man didn't answer your question, making it seem as if he didn't even hear it. You stood worriedly in front of him as he was about to walk deeper into the apartment, looking closely at his face, while taking it in your hands. You softly touched the cut on his lower lip, at which he frowned slightly.

“Sorry” you whispered quickly, as if the normal tone of your voice could hurt Steven even more.

The man standing in front of you looked as if he had aged ten years, during which life had shown him no mercy. He looked like a puppy, left for dead, so now it was you who felt obliged to take care of him, just as he did when you knocked weepingly on his door.

“We'll talk tomorrow, okay? Now let's quickly clean this wound and go to sleep, yeah?” you wanted to look into Steven's chocolate eyes, trying to find the answer in them. He instead took you into his arms, hugging you tightly and petting your hair.

“I'm sorry I didn't do anything about it earlier…” you heard his hushed voice, immediately noticing his British accent. “You will already be safe, I promise you that.”

After a while, during which you allowed Steven to hold you in his embrace, you both went to the bathroom, in order to wipe his cut lip. You didn't talk, but you didn't need to do so at all. You knew that you would have a frank conversation in the morning once you both got some sleep. Now you let things happen.

You wanted to ask Steven about everything right away. Not only about what happened to Nathaniel, but especially about his sudden change in behavior. You felt as if you were in the presence of a completely different person at that moment, but you refrained from bombarding him with a thousand questions, and after a few minutes you were both lying in his bed, giving yourself over to the embrace of sleep.

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pinkiebieberpie · 2 years

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pov: your camera roll if you were dating steven grant ✨

#steven grant #moon knight #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant au #steven grant imagine #oscar isaac #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac au #oscar isaac x y/n #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you

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fadedmunson · 10 months

Text

all apologies | o. isaac

pairings ; oscar isaac x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

summary ; you do something that you know you shouldn't have done, now you're facing the consequences

genre ; reader doing something kinda dumb, slightest bit of angst, and then all comfort ^^ kinda established relationship already

notes ; 1 curse word !! im not very good at writing and english is not my first language, thank you for understanding

wc ; 🤷‍♀️, not proofread !!

the hot, blistering sun was making your skin all sticky but thank god for this pool

"c'mon dude, just do it!" your friends egged you on

"i mean whats the worst that could happen?" one of them asked

"well, im sooo glad you asked! because i could hurt myself and ruin oscars mural, he just painted it i would never forgive myself." just thinking about it made you shiver

the pool party was a pretty cute and small gathering. only your friends and oscars were at this party and since you shared most of the same friends, it blended together really well

the only problem was how intimate and cozy your shared place could be with more than 10 people in it

"you only live once and it would be really cool! we'll get it on video and everything. the murals kinda far from the pool. I also thought oscar didn't really like the mural all that much. some water wont hurt it." one of your friends comments analytically.

that stupid reasoning is why you were now at the top of this diving board counting down to three

THREE ! god, WHAT am i doing with my life

TWO ! this won't make so much of a mess? right? i thi-

ONE ! SWEET BABY JESUS I CANT BREATHE

you take a leap of faith and jump right into this pool

SPLASH !

you don't know the water goes everywhere but you're pretty content with how steady your position and posture was while diving

you don't see the look on your friends faces that say 'fml' and 'oh... no..'

the mural was still wet and with the amount of water that splashed on it, the whole thing was ruined

and of course, right on time, oscar walks into the backyard

"thought i heard someo- " the smile on his face is immediately fading and being replaced with a blank stare

"oh my god," you don't know what to do in your frantic state "babe im so sorry i had no idea-" you try to talk to him but he pushes away almost too quickly and goes back inside

you just stand there, a cold and anxious feeling waving over you

you breathe in and then out, calm down and give him space, everything will be ok

you grab a towel, dry of a little, and take your sandals to go inside

the party is semi quiet, only being filled with small conversations and music through the speakers

before entering through the door entirely, you move your head to peak outside

"delete that video!" you shout to one of your friends who you know pressed rec.

as you're fluffing and drying off your hair, you try looking for oscar, not knowing he's fully slumped on the couch, just staring into nothingness

you're just worried for what you've done to this poor guy :,(

"oscar, honey, you gotta look at me please." you find and sit next to his motionless state and comb your hand through his hair while the other hand is caressing his face features

he doesn't say anything and doesn't even acknowledge your presence, ouch

"oh baby, im so sorry i did that. i knew it was a bad idea and im not sure why i still did it." you're quick to apologizing and you're now overthinking everything you did tonight

you're severely overwhelmed and have no idea what to say in this situation

all you can do is rest your face into his neck and press the smallest kisses there, making your way up to his jawline, then his cheek, his nose, and his head

you won't stop peppering these tiny kisses and you can see a little smile ghosting his features

you love the way he smells, the strongest smell of his cologne is all you can smell right now.

it's strong, a sandal wood and clean scent, it's so comforting to you right now

"stop you're tickling me now" he begins to lightly giggle and softly push you back a bit

you're both just laughing at each other until the laughter dies down and you fully apologize to him

"if i knew what would've happened, i would have never even step foot on that diving board" you look into his eyes with all the seriousness you could muster up

he just looks at you with softened and sad eyes "y'know, i was starting to like the mural a bit actually."

you're heart shatters into a million pieces (for the second time today) great, you feel like utter shit now

you feel like curling into a ball and crying as of right now, and he can tell, but you're here to console him

you see tears swell up in his eyes and you're quick to kiss his eyes and move onto his lap, your lips just inches away from his

"i don't deserve you, at all. there aren't enough apologies in the world to make up for hurting the most attractive person on earth" you poke at him a bit and just rest your forehead on his

he immediately moves your forehead off and wraps his hands on your waist as he leans in for a sweet, looooong kiss.

its warm, you taste the lukewarm beer he had around an hour ago, but it makes you smile into him

you end the kiss with a little peck on his lips and tilt your head to the side

"forgive me?" you pout a little

"i guess so," he sarcastically says but flips you on your back to trap you in his arms for another kiss

"hey!" you yelp while giggling

"i love you so much." you mumble into the kiss

"mmmmhm," he breathes into you "i love you so much more, mi querida."

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac fic #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x y/n #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #miguel o'hara x reader #poe dameron x reader #moonknight x reader

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m00nsbaby · 8 months

Text

The calendar.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Yes, I did this only because I hate this man and I wanted to make him unhappy, lol.

Word count. 2.9k

Summary.

There is simply nothing worst than knowing how it ends.

He had his strengths, unfortunately, socializing wasn't part of that extensive list. So when you, a natural chatterbox, took a seat beside him, he knew he was condemned for the rest of the day.

Will didn't know that you were also terrible at making friends.

"I saw you in the literature class, you did great," you whispered with a smile, adhering to the library's rules, and he sighed, thinking that he only responded to teachers' questions because no one else did.

"Uh-huh."

A few seconds of silence, and you picked up on it. After having five people reject your friendship, you understood the message loud and clear. It seemed you would finish your university career without knowing a single friendly soul on campus.

Although, well, in this case, maybe it was your fault. He seemed a bit older than you. Perhaps the weariness of university life had already consumed his soul or something like that.

You didn't say anything more, you crossed your arms and buried your face in them, close to tears. It was only a few seconds before a tap on your shoulder made you turn.

Without looking at you, the curly-haired guy was pushing his coffee cup towards you, as an invitation.

Did you look that exhausted?

In silence, you took the cup and had a sip. Maybe not everything was so bad.

It became a routine; you didn't say anything when you arrived at his side at the same table that only the two of you shared.

You learned that the two free hours you had between classes were the same ones he seemed to have; you always found him in the same spot, writing as if his life depended on it. Many times, the only sound accompanying you was the noise of his old laptop, whose fan you compared to the engine of a broken-down car.

"I didn't see you in class today." It was the first time in a long time that he spoke to you as he pushed the remainder of his coffee towards you, as usual.

You drank it, trying to hide your surprise at his words.

"I overslept."

He scoffed. And you smiled when you discovered that he had more than just one facial expression.

You figured that the encounter for that day was over because he turned towards his backpack. However, instead of packing things, he seemed to be rummaging through it.

"I'll send you what we covered in class." He wrote on a post-it note before pushing it towards you; his email address was written on it.

Very formal, very him.

And you smiled even more, if that was possible.

With time, things became a bit of a frenzy for you two. Before you knew it, you were in Will's arms, already accustomed to his way of covering your eyes and hugging you from behind.

"Who am I?"

"Mhm, let me guess…" He always laughed when you pretended not to recognize him.

Slowly, he slid his hand from your eyes down your face and rested it on your neck. You knew there were people watching you, there were always people watching you at school.

Maybe everyone wondered what you had given to the quietest and most introverted guy in school to have him so enchanted with you.

Slowly, you turned around in his arms. He pressed you against his chest, and you smiled.

"Do you want to study together tonight?"

Study sessions one day turned into make-out sessions.

"Is this okay?" He leaned over your body to look at your laptop screen.

His body rose and fell with your breath, and you tried not to complain that he was crushing you with the weight of his body.

"Poor wording," he teased, and you realized it when he pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh, and you pushed him.

"I won't ask for your opinion ever again."

"I tell you for your own good." He rested a hand on the pillow next to your head, looking at you with that mocking smile that annoyed you so much.

"You always say that." You pouted.

He leaned further forward, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"And you keep asking me to review it," he whispered, his huge brown eyes fixed on you.

Your hand rose, and you gently caressed the light beard that began to grow every three days. The same one that tickled you whenever he rested his chin on your neck.

"You're a lousy tutor."

Seconds of silence before he pushed forward, his lips crashing against yours with desperation.

It seemed like Will had been waiting for this his whole life. He was devouring your mouth, claiming it as his own.

This became a habit, meeting every week to kiss until your lips hurt, him squeezing your hip until his fingers were imprinted on you.

All of this under the title of "best friends."

Your story had its ups and downs, needless to say, both of your characters were somewhat special. Because even though you worked perfectly together, you both had too much pride to acknowledge your feelings for each other.

You met his girlfriends; he met every idiot who tried to be with you without realizing that you were too good for losers like them.

You argued, gave each other the cold shoulder on multiple occasions, and reconciled just as many times.

And before you knew it, you were living with him.

Not only that, you had already had an established relationship for about two years.

"Are you going through a phase?" He slid his arms around your waist, and with little force, he pulled you close to his chest as your gaze remained fixed on your phone.

"Can't I listen to One Direction albums on repeat without you judging me?"

"No." Sometimes he was so good in his performances that you had no other choice but to elbow him to take the air out of his lungs.

Still, he laughed.

"Listen, it's a masterpiece." You turned slowly. You placed one of the earphones in his ear, and you kept the other in yours.

As the music played and you hummed along, Will just stared at you. He used to do that often, but he never told you that in the meantime, he was thinking about how lucky he was.

About how he prayed to heaven, to God, to fate, to whatever was listening that life would stay like this forever. With you in his arms and your horrible musical choices.

"It's awful."

You both burst into laughter, and he didn't even complain when you hit him again. Nor did you when he pushed you beneath him, kissing you like a hungry man.

Your shared closet was full of little colorful notes - yellow, pink, green, and orange - and you read each one carefully.

Behind you, Will was biting one of his nails, looking at you as if Jane Austen herself were judging his work.

Exactly 36 minutes passed as you finished your reading, and in the end, you turned to him with a smile that brought his soul back to life.

It turns out that Will had always dreamed of being a writer, and you, better than anyone, had known this since that disastrous afternoon when you first met. In fact, you were surprised that he didn't already have four novels completed, given the speed and desperation with which he always wrote.

"It's perfect, love!" Yeah, it was just a storyboard but you still jumped into his arms, and with the coordination of two people who were born to be together, he lifted you off the ground.

Of course, you supported his dream, even if it meant quitting his job to write full-time. You knew it would be tough, exhausting for you as the primary provider, but in your eyes, it would all be worth it when you saw him dedicate his first book to you.

That had been the deal. You would get the first copy, the first page would clarify how important you were to him (that part was his suggestion), and the book, adorned with his autograph, would be part of the house's decor.

"I can't wait to read it." Your forehead rested against his.

"I love you." He told you all the time, in fact, he had been saying it since you were best friends, but this time it was different.

Special, sincere, and intimate.

Will wanted to tear out his heart and leave it in your hands, like the dramatic writer he had been for years.

And you wanted to take care of it, to take care of his heart, to take care of him, until your time ran out.

"I can't take it anymore, Will." You sobbed in his arms as he gently rocked you back and forth.

The edge of his desk was digging into your ribs every time he leaned forward, but you didn't complain; you knew he was doing his best to console you.

He could only think that it wasn't fair; you were giving up your life to let him fulfill his dream.

It turned out that when you started taking extra shifts, your body began to succumb to physical and emotional exhaustion. You were utterly drained, and in recent days, your boss wasn't making it any easier for you.

"Quit," was the first thing that came to his mind.

And that made you sob even more because you were no longer a child.

Because even though he offered you the easiest way out, you knew when things were possible and when they weren't, and losing your job without a backup plan was by no means an option. That was probably the most frustrating part, not seeing a way out.

Your boyfriend's beard tickled your forehead, and when your breathing synchronized with his, you thought what you always thought. 'This will be worth it someday.'

Will was worth it. Will was worth even more than this, and you knew it. You would never have the strength to ask him to be unhappy again for a little more money.

"We should get married."

Will choked on his cereal, his gaze leaving his laptop for a few seconds.

It wasn't the first time you had made such comments, and although you thought Will was simply too dumb to understand hints, he had decided to start ignoring them.

And he wasn't even sure why. Maybe he had never been attracted to the idea of marriage, maybe part of it made him feel like his youth was slipping through his fingers.

But this time you were too direct to ignore.

"I don't know, love," he scratched his beard, finally pushing his laptop aside.

Lately, you didn't spend as much time together without him writing, without the sound of the keys resonating in your head.

Anyway, his answer was enough to make you swallow hard.

It hurt that he doubted.

"I think we don't have enough money," he cleared his throat with the excuse.

You nodded silently.

That night you turned your back on him, and he unconsciously did the same. He didn't like it at all; in fact, he didn't want to repeat the experience ever again.

"How long are we going to keep this up?" Your voice was almost a cold whisper as you stared at your coffee cup.

Of course, Will had noticed for weeks that things weren't right between you, but by his own choice, he hadn't said anything.

He knew that talking would mean facing many things, maybe hearing from your own mouth everything he had been doing wrong. Losing you.

No scenario seemed tempting to him, so he chose the best way out of all this, pretending that everything was fine, playing dumb when you hinted in some way that things weren't going well. You see, perhaps Will's worst flaw was being selfish.

He could see you losing yourself over time, little by little, every day more, rather than letting you go. Letting you be happy somewhere else.

"Keep what up, love?"

Life was weighing you down. Your job, your relationship, feeling stuck in the same place. And on occasions like these, he reminded you that you weren't ready either.

You didn't have the strength to argue.

Your eyes were tired of the constant burning of tears.

You simply shook your head, and your boyfriend's heart returned to its normal rhythm.

He didn't know how long you would hold up like this, but at least for today, things would stay as they were.

You would sleep in his arms, and he would pretend that hugging you tighter was just an involuntary move and a way to silently comfort those sobs that you always thought would never wake him up.

Sometimes you felt like you were just exaggerating. That you, like all couples, were simply going through a rough patch.

Will was the same. He always was.

The one who made you laugh, the one who saved his last sip of coffee for you, and the one who promised to share his dream of a lifetime with you, which you confirmed on an ordinary Saturday.

He invited you to dinner and temporarily got rid of that beard that always scratched you when you kissed him. He took you to the movies and let you choose the film.

You made out in the last row of seats like teenagers with little time alone, and you laughed out loud when your lipstick ended up completely on his now swollen lips. And things only got better at home.

Yes, you were one of those ridiculous couples who had matching pajamas, and that night, after many, you wore them at the same time.

"I love you." Your stomach fluttered as it had the first time he said it to you, and you kissed his lips until you got tired.

Will watched you sleep, thinking about how lucky he was. He prayed with all his heart that the day would never come when you realized that he would never be worth it, and that unfortunately, living through those terrible ups and downs wouldn't be worth it someday either.

He prayed that you wouldn't notice how his face fell when you proposed the idea of starting a family, or how the excuse of an expensive wedding went to hell when you suggested something small with his family and yours.

Both of you slept on the couch, although the next day you woke up sore, you could ignore many things if Will held you that way with his arms.

Things came to an end exactly three months later when you realized that all the previous times you said, "I can't take it anymore" didn't compare to what it truly meant to not be able to take it anymore.

Will knew it; for a week, it could have been any day.

Still, no matter how much he prepared mentally, it felt like someone was ripping his stomach out when he woke up one day and found you sitting on the couch, a coffee cup in your hand, and your suitcases in front of you.

He thought it was ridiculous that you had to leave your own home, but to the very end, you were thinking of him.

"Don't go," was all he could say, and you looked at him.

You were exhausted.

"I can't stay, Will." You sounded so determined that he almost felt happy to hear you being yourself again. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he heard you speak so firmly.

He wished it hadn't been this way.

"Every morning…" Your voice broke, along with his heart. "Every morning, I feel like I have to put my hands on my chest and check to confirm that I'm alive."

This was precisely what Will had been trying to avoid for so long.

"Please, don't do it," he repeated softly. For a writer of some of the most dramatic stories you'd ever read, he didn't seem to have much else on his mind than this, repeating over and over not to leave.

"Promise me it will be different, and I'll try, Will."

He swallowed hard.

"Make me your wife, make me your everything," you begged through tears.

And he couldn't. He couldn't even walk behind you to stop you as you left, dragging your noisy suitcases.

He knew he would dream for the rest of his nights about that broken hug and painful kiss on the cheek you gave him to say goodbye. And although his ears played him a continuous ringing, something he had only seen in movies, he managed to hear that you said something about taking care of himself.

It tore his soul apart to think that even in the last minute, you were thinking of his well-being, something he had stopped doing a long time ago.

Will's life spiraled downhill, but that's something he had predicted a long time ago. He knew that everything in him depended on you to be okay.

His writings lost their meaning, his novel remained half-finished when he realized that maybe it wasn't worth completing if he wouldn't have someone to dedicate it to in the end.

He always believed that misfortune could bring out the potential in any artist, but unfortunately, he wasn't one of those cases.

He never listened to any songs he recognized from being on the same playlist you used to play on any occasion, and his bed started to feel colder and colder, even in the summer.

The only thing he sometimes liked was that period of time between lying down and falling asleep; he liked to remember.

Sometimes, he even laughed at all those times he begged not to lose you. He wished he had done more than just pray.

#life itself #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x y/n #will dempsey

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oscarisaacsspit · 2 years

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and when i say i want him to moan his own name for me i'm the weird one 🙄

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moiravim · 1 year

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Healing

Basil Stitt x teen!reader

Tw: mention of suicide

Basil is your dad and after he's struck by lightning you take care of him and help him heal.

Basil had adopted you just a year or two before the 'incident'. You lived with him in his apartment, so when he was outside for just a bit too long you got nervous and went to check on him.

You find him passed out on the floor with a large burn on his face. Nausea overwhelmes you as your body shakes in fear of loosing your father.

"Dad? Dad!" You call out as you crouch down next to him and try to shake him awake. He shifts a little bit doesn't wake.

You sigh, thankful that he's alive before trying to drag him inside. He was heavy, but you didn't want him to get hurt any more. You layed him down on a rug, unable to lift him onto the couch or a mattress.

You run into his room and bring back a blanket, which you wrap around him.

You sit and wait, eventually becoming too tired and falling asleep with your head on his chest.

You jolt awake from a nightmare. Your father had lost his mind. He had hurt himself in ways unimaginable. You cried when you realized he wasn't next to you and jumped up to look for him.

You checked the balcony first, scared he had jumped. When you went back inside you found him looking in the mirror.

"Dad!" You gasped as you ran up to him and hugged him. "I was so scared, I had a dream that I lost you... I'm so scared" you spit out as you start to cry.

He hugs you back, still looking at his face with a look of shock.

You feel the need to watch over him. To make sure he takes care of himself. The dream felt much too real to ignore.

So that's what you do. You take care of him and help him learn to take care of himself.

Anytime he starts to rage or act on his intrusive thoughts, you distract him. Either by putting on the television or thinking of a game to entertain him.

When your dad called his girlfriend to break up with her, you took the phone and explained everything to her. At first he was mad at you but eventually he'd be thankful.

It feels almost as if your in charge of keeping his life together. He often got pissed off and started breaking things and you were the only one there to calm him.

He cries and apologizes to you anytime he tries hurting himself or snaps at you. He feels like he's bad for you and wants you to leave him, but you refuse.

Basil makes you go get food for him because; "I don't want them to see my face. Please, yn". You always give in.

Eventually you try convincing him to go with you to the grocery store. You insist that you can't go alone.

He refuses but after about aweek he agrees. He likes the thought of going with you since he doesn't want anything awful to happen to you.

You start to get ready to go out. You're excited because this is the first time you've gone out with your dad in weeks. Your thankful he agreed.

So when he goes out with a paper bag over his head your confused. It doesn't even look that bad, his scar looks cool to you. But he refuses to leave without it.

You sigh and say; "okay". You grab his hand and walk through the streets with him to the grocery store a few blocks away.

It was embarrassing but you didn't want to upset him even more. He was already going through a lot. And he was slowly getting better. You didn't want to ruin that.

The two of you restocked on groceries when you got home, Basil put everything away and threw out the trash in the fridge.

It was a big step. It's been a while since Basil hadn't done anything in days and you were almost proud of him.

Things started to get better from then on. Eventually his girlfriend came over and Basil tried to explain everything to her.

She felt bad for getting so mad at him after seeing that what you said was true. He really had gone downhill and she hadn't even seen the worst of it.

Basil continues healing and he starts to become a better father. He starts taking care of you instead of the other way around.

He's forever thankful for you and has realized that it's his time to pay you back.

He gets back to work and puts the both of you in Therapy together. After his money starts to become stable again he absolutely spoils you.

He just wants you to be as happy as you used to be, before all this happened.

A/N: I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T WATCHED THIS IN LIKE A YEAR SO IT'S PROB INACCURATE. but I love him too much I had to write this. 😈😈

#oscar isaac x y/n #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #basil stitt #basil stitt x reader #lightning face #oscar isaac x teen!reader #moon knight x teen!reader #parental figures #found family #parental fanfic #dad oscar isaac #basil stitt x teen!reader

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god-complex-12 · 10 months

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Tristful

— Paring; Will Dempsey x male reader. Fandom; Life Itself

Tristful [ trist-fuhl ]: (adj.) full of sadness; sorrowful

Quote; “6.9, why that number? Are you trying to be clever?”

Description; Will’s sulking on a bus stop bench and suddenly someone interesting sits next to him and brightens up a little more than just his day. Disclaimer; Liquor. Breaking down. Melancholy. Description of depression. Greif. Intoxication. Reader is a lawyer. Sadness? Angst? Immature jokes. Will sucks at flirting. No use of “Y/N”

Word Count: 1.4k

Life Itself Masterlist, Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Will sat at the bus stop bench. He has a brown bag with whatever cheap liquor he could get his hands on resting between his legs, his hand loosely wrapped around the neck on the bottle. His entire body leaning against the bus stop enclosure. The enclosure used to stop people from getting wet when it rains. He was already tipsy despite it being pretty early in the day. His eyes were tired and had a dead-like look in them.

A man sat next to him on the bench. Not so close to where they were touching, but the bench wasn’t that big so he wasn’t that far away from Will either. The man tugged his coat closed over his suit. He looked like a very well put together man, He dressed fancy. His hair was done. He crossed his leg over the other and gently bounced the one over the other as he waited.

The man’s appearance slightly shocked Will. He sat up a little straighter and moved the bottle of liquor to the other side of him, outside of the man’s view if he were to look over at Will. He momentarily forgot about his life and his disheveled appearance. He looked at the man. “Hey.” He could see his breath in the cold air and it made him feel like a giddy kid, thinking the smoke was cool.

He shook his head to get his head straight. “Are you waiting for the bus?” If he was sober, he would have slapped himself for the stupid question. He hated when people asked stupid obvious questions, yet here he was, at a bus stop, asking if this man was waiting for the bus.

The man could smell the alcohol off of Will, but said nothing about it. He didn’t think it was his business to point it out. “Yes, sir. I am,” He said, politely.

Will noticed that the man’s nose and ears were red from the cold air. He found it endearing for just a split second. He looked at the ground and he seemed like he was on the verge of just breaking down. Right then and there. He swallowed hard and spoke up again. “Where ya headed?”

The man smiled politely at Will. “Work.”

“Oh, what do you do for work?” Will seemed to take a little interest in what he had to say, wiping his eyes and putting a hand to his mouth as he covered it, trying his hardest not to sob.

"I have an office job." He said in a softer voice. He could tell Will was on the verge of tears. He didn't mention that, to avoid embarrassing him by chance, so he just spoke in a more gentle tone.

Will chuckled lightly. It was ironic that he had found himself in this circumstance, talking to someone so proper yet here he is. “What kind of office job? Accountant? Salesman?” Will tried his hardest to focus on the small talk with this proper man, rather than his life problems.

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Cool.” Will was starting to crack. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried so hard to hide his pain. His voice sounded shaky, even more so because he desperately tried to cover it up. His voice cracked as he barely managed to say more words. “I’m a screenwriter.”

The man looked at him with a shocked expression, his eyebrows raised in interest. “Really?”

The stranger’s interest seemed to be the only thing to keep Will from breaking. He managed to look up at him and meet his gaze. His eyes were red and puffy from all the sadness, but he was doing his best to look happy. He managed a small smile. “Yeah, I write scripts and such.”

“Scripts and such?” The man repeated with a chuckle. “Is that a job or a hobby?”

Will paused. “A- a hobby,” Will said in a shaky voice. He tried his best to sound confident but he was failing. He coughed a bit and then spoke once more. “What kind of lawyer are you? Corporate, criminal, business?” Will was desperately trying to focus on something other than his grief, anything to keep his mind off of the pain he felt deep inside his soul.

“Criminal.”

“What’s it like? Like what do you do? Go to court and represent people and try to get them either the worst or best outcome, or something like that?” Will asked. He was still trying to figure out what life was like past his own misery. He couldn’t imagine doing anything other than what he used to do before life got dark, before the storm clouds came and life felt like a hopeless cause.

“Yeah, something like that.” He said with a laugh.

“Wow, that’s gotta be stressful. I can’t even imagine. Do you like your job?” Will said with a blank expression.

The man paused. “Um, to- to an extent.”

“To an extent?” Will looked surprised. He looked like he was thinking about the possibility of having a job he didn’t like. “How much do you like it on a scale of — let's say -– 1 to 10?” He was curious.

“6.9.” He said rather quickly.

Will smirked at the number. “6.9, why that number? Are you trying to be clever?” He gave the stranger a playful wink as he let out a quick laugh.

The man chuckled in embarrassment. “No, no, that was unintentional.” He looked away.

Will let out a chuckle as his cheeks blushed. His eyes met the man’s and he had a warm smile as his eyes looked into the stranger’s. “Are you sure? I think it’s a pretty genius number, if I do say so myself.” He tilted his head to the side as he said this, his eyes twinkling and his cheeks blushed as the two men locked eyes. He was clearly flirting. He looked rather attractive as he did so, and was rather happy at this moment. He was distracted from his pain and grief.

Will was shocked with himself at this new act, but for some reason, he didn’t care. He hadn’t flirted with some since her, let alone has he flirted with a man who was a stranger— yet here he was.

The man laughed and covered his mouth. He was slightly disappointed in himself for laughing at such an immature joke, but something about the situation made him crack.

Will let out a genuine laugh. He liked that the stranger had a sense of humor. “I’m sure you love immature jokes.” He said in a flirtatious tone while glancing at the man’s lips. He was a hopeless flirt. He let out a playful laugh afterwards, his eyes twinkling as he did so. “So, do you just practice criminal or do you ever do family law or something like that?”

The man paused and looked at Will before falling into a pit of laughter. He covered his mouth and leaned forward, tears pricking his eyes as he found the situation funny. "Business, dirty joke, straight back to business."

Will’s laugh slowly came to an end. He wiped the tears from his eyes. Will took the time to collect himself, and after letting out one last chuckle, he spoke once more. “Are you always this friendly? Or am I just lucky enough that you sat next to me today?” He looked at the stranger with a wide grin. His eyes twinkled and his cheeks blushed as he said this. He couldn’t help but giggle at his own words. “That sounded pretty smooth, didn’t it?”

The man started laughing again and he leaned against the bench edge. "Stop, my stomach's starting to hurt.." The bus suddenly pulled up and the doors opened and the man stood. “I have to go. Thank you. This has been a nice addition to my day.”

Will sat up a little more. “No, not without giving me your number.”

The man paused and chuckled. He pulled out a business card and gave it to him. “Message me.” He said before stepping onto the bus.

Will stared at the business card, and— for once —he felt happy.

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klaustozier · 11 months

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uniform ; miguel o'hara

SUMMARY: you and spiderman 2099 are arch enemies, but when you capture him things are different.

warnings: miguel o'hara x fem!reader; you are archenemies; light knife play (there will be NO injuries being done, the knife is for taking off part of his clothes); angry sex; bigcock!miguel; nipple play (in both); light mask kink; again he will swear in spanish; mention of blood (he will bite you a little 😳); choking; degradation kink; fingering; pet names (princess); spanking and slapping; i think i might have a fang kink idk

word count: 2k

english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes

the villain is invented for this story, okay? you don't exist in marvel universe, at least not that i know of

have fun ^^

Miguel was trapped. He had appeared in your lair to try to capture you before you destroyed more lives. But he didn't imagine it was just an ambush to capture him. He was in a dark warehouse, bound with chains, mostly on his hands, not wanting to give his claws a chance to help him break free.

"Oh…", you said approaching, wearing a tight black outfit, the beautiful makeup adorned your face, with sparkles on your eyelids and a star under the eyeliner, "You always think that you will be able to defeat me, but we know that is not so, uh?", you approached with knives in hand, your face getting close to his, the mask and a small distance separating them, "You have to remember that I will always, always be one step ahead… Miguel."

His eyes widened, his mask moving in astonishment, "What?"

You laughed, "You don't have to hide from me, I know a lot more than you can imagine…", the tip of the knife passed gently across his cheek, cutting through the mask without difficulty, making him pull back his face, "Calm down, mi amor", you whispered, "Miguel is a beautiful name…"

"How did you find out?", he asked, feeling the cold wind of the warehouse lit by computers cool the skin on his cheek that had been exposed.

You were good with knives so you hadn't cut him because you didn't want to draw blood, and something inside him responded to the thought that you could do as you pleased with him.

"Ah…", you chuckled, "I have my tricks, Mr. O'Hara", the knife slid gently across his chest where the chains didn't hold him, horizontally, the uniform opened, revealing his strong chest. You sighed seeing the delicate nipples prickling, his breathing seemed uneven not out of fear, or out of anger, but for another reason, which made your eyebrow rise, "Oh…", you smirked, positioning the flat part of the knife on his nipple, making him suck in air between his teeth as the cold metal made contact with his hot skin. He groaned and shook his head trying to get rid of that feeling when the thin sharp tip of the knife played with his skin, "What a shame, Miguel. ¿No tienes vergüenza de eso?", you laughed seeing his erection showing in your tight clothes, "You like to be dominated by the enemy, Miguel?"

Your mouth was positioned on his, still covered over the mask, not much contact, just a slight proximity.

"You will pay for this", he whispered.

You laughed, your knife being placed in its holster on your thigh, leaving you free to slide your finger across his nipple, "How? Are you going to lock me up, 20-9-9? You'll never get it and you know it", and you ran your tongue across his lip, the tip of the knife in your other hand playing gently with the skin of his chest, only teasing the delicate skin, not cutting it.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Come on, Spider-Man."

You, again, licked his lip, then biting it, still covered by the thin cloth, your finger pinching his nipple. Abruptly, he grabbed you, grabbing your arms, pushing you toward the center of the room, slamming you against the computers.

Pulling the mask off, baring his massive fangs at you, earning a wry smile, "So pissed off."

"Carajo", he cursed.

And he kissed you. First you were startled, then you allowed it to continue. Your mouth opened to allow his tongue in, kissing him angrily, feeling his fangs rub against your lower lip, scraping as you kissed him. Your hands went to his soft black hair, stroking as you kissed him angrily.

The older one held your face tightly, his lips red from the kiss, panting hard, "You have to learn to shut your fucking mouth."

"If I don't learn, will you teach me, Miguel?", the way you said his name filled him with anger. You took the knife in your hand and started ripping his clothes off, from his neck, down his chest, until your hand was grabbed and the knife was positioned under your neck, "Are you going to kill me, O'Hara?"

"In a little bit", he promised.

And he kissed you again. His hands went to your ass, squeezing through the tight pants you wore, devouring your lips. One of his hands went to your chest, its claws scratching at the tight-fitting black turtleneck you wore, ripping through the material. With the hand that previously ripped your clothes off you, he grabbed you by the neck and squeezed, pushing you against the computer screens, looking at what he had done.

Your chest rose and fell, your lips red from the kiss, your breasts showing through the torn fabric. His free hand went to your breasts, scratching the soft skin over the nipple gently before sliding his thumb over the hard spot making you moan.

"Such a sweet moan, fucking slut", he grinned, letting go of your neck so he could grab both breasts at the same time, pinching the nipples, your back arching in the direction of his touch. Your legs tightened together making him laugh, "Carajo… tan increíble…"

"Miguel", you whispered.

You groaned loudly as you received a slap across the face after he held it, making you look at him, "Don't call me that."

"What do you want me to call you? Daddy?", you mocked, getting another slap on the face.

He laughed, bringing his face closer to yours, "I want you to shut up."

"Whatever you want, cariño."

He smirked and gave you a soft peck, lowering his lips to your neck, scraping his sharp teeth over your skin. Even though it was smooth, a little blood escaped, instinctively, he ran his tongue over the área, tasting your blood, before continuing his way down.

You held your own breasts and offered them to him. The brunette smiled and looked at you as he licked at your nipples before scraping his fangs over them. You moaned and took a deep breath feeling his strong hands tearing your pants, he didn't even use the claws, it was brute force, and that alone made your pussy throb.

He knelt down between your legs, picking one of them up and placing it over his shoulder. His intention was to provoke you, to just lick your thighs, kiss your pussy and lick the wet delicate lips, but you didn't have the patience, so you squeezed his hair and forced his handsome face against your pussy.

His lips sank into your wet pussy and he sighed as he began to lick you with so much lust, his mouth getting all wet. His experienced tongue going up and down with no rhythm, making you squirm and whine, while holding his hair. Miguel's claws were positioned over his thighs, holding them while he sucked your clit.

"Tan dulce", he whispered.

The brunette gently bit your thigh, making you moan and tremble, "Harder", you asked softly.

"Puta", he chuckled.

He bit the thigh a little harder, kissing the área, and soon after, started licking it, moaning low as he felt the taste of your blood on his skin again.

Miguel retracted his claws and took the gloves off one hand just so he could fuck you with his fingers, he needed to feel you, you were just begging for him to fuck you while you moaned disconnected words and begged for absolutely nothing with your mind completely blank. His mouth was experienced, licking you with such precision, making you squirm and moan, gripping his dark hair.

When O'Hara sensed you were close to cum, he pulled away, getting up, lips all wet with your pleasure, the pretty lips glistening, he licked them tasting a little bit more of you.

"No", you whimpered, "I thought you were the good guy."

"You thought wrong, princess", he sighed looking down, "Come on, take off my pants."

You nodded, taking a knife from your boot and sliding the shiny blade down the happy trail area, tearing his uniform, taking his cock in your hands and sighing thinking you could finally suck him off and have your jaw hurt from the effort to suck that thick cock.

Miguel had other plans. He flipped you over on the table, leaving you with your face pressed against the computer screen, your ass facing him. He slapped your ass and positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance. Your legs shook.

"Miguel", you whispered, "please."

"Oh", he chuckled, "are you polite then?"

You wanted to respond, to be rude and smart, but there wasn't time. Miguel sunk his cock all the way into you, his cock filling you completely, stretching you.

"I'll leave you all loose…", whispered the brunette, his body leaning against yours, biting your earlobe, "You'll stay days", and he thrust hard, pausing, "and days" , lunging once more, "thinking of me."

"Miguel."

O'Hara smiled and continued to thrust, making the table move with his movements, the monitors moving with the force he exerted. You whined softly and he moaned low, against your ear, feeling your insides crush him, press on his cock.

He didn't think he was going to end the day like that, fucking his archenemy in your hideout, but he wasn't going to complain, it felt so good. They kissed, the movements didn't stop. At first, as you went, he came back, but time passed and the rhythm was out of step with their desperation, each moving how they saw fit to sick for their own pleasure. His hands caressed and pinched your nipples, which were erect and hard against your digits.

You came first, moaning loudly in agony, your lower lip being bitten as you felt your body being overcome with pleasure.

You didn't have time to compose yourself, Miguel picked you up and put you on your knees in front of him. The thick cock in front of your face, glistening, the tip flushed and oozing pre-cum. One of your hands held the thick base, helping you to suck it while the other went to his ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You had to do it, you had looked at his ass on his uniform far too many times not to feel the need to grab it.

His hands held your hair, moaning low, feeling his cock hitting your throat, "What a loose throat, uh, princess?"

You smiled and licked the base before swallowing all of it again, your hand and mouth making twisting motions, going back and forth to give him more pleasure. His moans made your pussy ache, it was so good to hear, so low and dark, his fangs gleaming in the delicate light.

He pulled you by the chin and forced your mouth open with his hand, his thumb holding your tongue and the other fingers under your chin. He jerked off looking into your eyes, pausing only to watch his cum fall onto your tongue. The brunette held your mouth open for a few seconds, absorbing the image of you like that, the cheeks flushed, the eyes watery, the lips red and the tongue marked with his cum. And after that, he finally released it so you could swallow.

"Puta madre", he whispered as you got on your feet.

"I agree", you laughed while kissing him.

Miguel kissed you desperately, tasting his cum on your tongue. For a second, he wondered what he would do now, with his clothes torn like that, how would he get out of there like that? He needed to change clothes, but what clothes would he put on? Without being able to think of a solution, the brunette felt a thin needle in his neck, letting go of your lips, and soon after his body went limp, fainting.

Miguel woke up in his home, scared. He was wearing his own pajamas and lying on his bed, in the empty space next to him, his uniform was folded delicately with a card and a note on top.

Lost, he took the note and read it, chuckling afterwards.

"2099,

I hope you can pay off the damage with this credit card. We can't let you fight evil with your cock out. It will scare the old ladies.

Next time, you'll end up in a coffin, not in your bed after I blew you oh so gracefully. So be careful.

Signed,

Your #1 fan."

...

well, i hope you liked it <3

please reblog and leave a like if you enjoyed it! and leave a comment with your thoughts, i would love to know!

see ya next time.

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

♡masterlist♡

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderverse fanfic #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x y/n #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac fic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine

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lqversinterlude · 10 months

Text

Dance the Knight away (Steven Grant x Reader)

Warnings - None! It’s just pure fluff, and a bit of swearing from the reader. She couldn’t watch her mouth at all!

Pairing - Steven Grant x Female Reader

Synopsis - The reader goes to prom with Steven.

(A/N: the title’s a TWICE song reference, stream their music! And, this is my first time writing a fanfic so, bare with me if it kinda sucks! I hope you enjoy it! <3)

(p.s - this is just a one shot because I’m not into writing lengthy fan fictions yet. :P)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The evening was filled with laughter and joy, the music surrounds the area and the moon shines brightly from above. It’s been weeks since you asked Steven out if you could be his date for Prom Night and you’re hoping to see him during the evening, the big door creaks open and you see him, in his white suit, all fixed up with him carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hand, he searches the area to look for you, he finally sees you and decides to approach you in the middle of the crowd.

“Ello’ love, I’m really sorry it took me time to get here, now, here we are!” He waves at you and manages to stay enthusiastic as he apologizes for being tardy. He suddenly hands you the bouquet he was holding in his hand. “I wouldn’t want to forget about giving you something as my prom date like all the other boys would do if they get asked out by someone.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

“It’s okay that you weren’t able to get here on time, at least you’re here with me, at this very moment, and that’s what matters to me. Oh, and thank you for the little gift, I appreciate it.” You smile and take the bouquet from his hand, you weren’t really amused that he had his time mixed up in arriving for the event.

You look at him, oh man, this guy hasn’t gotten any sleep at all, his eyes looking all sleepy and his hair, all messy, yet, that did not stop you from liking him. Although he may be your friend, you still happened to like him, and for unusual reasons, the way you had to think twice on liking a friend just feels different when it comes to him. He just happens to have this different “effect” on you that most of your friends don’t even have.

“Well, shall we start.. Dancing?” He offers you his hand as he looks around to see the people in the venue, dancing together. You take his hand and he pulls you close, he then puts one of his hands on your waist and one on your hand, you hold his hand and shoulder, you two start dancing. Moments after, he suddenly looks at you and asks “Can we take this outside? I’m so sorry but the environment happens to overwhelm me so much.. I just don’t like it when people watch us dance, although its a free space and everyone is free to dance together.” He apologizes yet, he tries to make sure that you don’t get pissed off or annoyed by his request.

You then smile, and take his hand, suddenly pulling him towards the door with caution, “It’s okay, there’s no need to worry because I can always take you wherever you’re comfortable with, so.. Let’s get out of here?” He just stares at you and freezes, you then ask him again as you noticed that he zoned out from all the nervousness that he’s currently experiencing, “Shall we?” He finally snaps out and nervously nods at you and looks back at the venue, the two of you finally leave.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Moments after walking down the long hallway of the building, the both of you finally reach the outer field, as the moon illuminates the field, the both of you run around the field with no one else watching, he then suddenly picks you up, bridal style, and he spins you around the field, he pulls you close and you rest your hands on his shoulders, “You aren’t that heavy as I thought you were, well, honestly, you’re actually that light, I can’t deny.” He playfully chuckles, he then puts you down and points to the Gazebo that’s built in the middle of the field.

“So.. Do you want to go there? Like look, no one’s around except us, it would be bonkers if somebody caught us hanging around here, yeah?” He asks if the two of you can get in the small building, you nod at him and the two of you enter.

The two of you are sat on a small side bench in an open space, “Huh, I guess the moon’s the only thing that’s watching us right now, unless someone’s nosy ass happened to follow us on our way here.” You shrug and point out the bright moon that’s illuminating the wooden flooring of the gazebo. “Well, Steven, listen to me, I have something to tell you, it will definitely sound so fucking weird at first but I hope you understand.” He suddenly brings his head up to look at you as you try to tell him that he hasn’t known for a long time.

“Oh? What is it? Care to tell me? It would be such a blunder if you don’t tell me what you’re willing to tell me at this very moment.” He smiles at you and rests his hands on his knees, he then smoothens out his vest that’s inside of his coat, he tilts his head and raises his brows.

You sigh and slap both of your knees, it took you moments to finally tell him “Steven, I like you, like more than a friend. Ever since we grew closer and closer, my feelings grew as well and I mean that. I was just too afraid to tell you in any other day because I have this really bad experience of getting rejected by my past crushes but, that never stopped me from telling this to you because I knew that I wanted to give romance another chance, again.”

He looks at you with awe, blush creeps up his face, realizing on what you just told him at that very moment, “Well, (Y/N), you’re a really brave one for telling me about your feelings, and it’s mental that you happened to tell me at this very moment, I didn’t expect any of that.” He chuckles.

“You know, it’s funny that I happen to.. Uhm, how do I say this, oh yeah! I happen to like you as well, it may sound a bit of a shocker but I hope that doesn’t overwhelm you as much as it does for me.” He takes your hand and rubs his thumb on top of your hand’s surface, he’s definitely flustered right now, “It’s just that.. It’s surprising that you happened to handle all the things I’ve been experiencing in my life and you happened to be so kind to me, unlike how other girls treat me because they think I was too “nerdy” or “strange” for their liking, not to forget, they thought my accent was too thick for them to understand.” He adds as he looks down on the floor with a saddened expression.

“Oh, forget about that bullshit.” You then pull his collar and bring his lips to yours, he hugs you tightly and he pulls away. “Oh wow, okay, that was nuts. I definitely did not expect that, darling.” He says after the two of you breaks away from the kiss, you definitely haven’t had your first kiss but now, you did, with someone who’s described as a “weird ass guy who looks like he hasn’t slept in days”.

He just sits there, in shock, not knowing what to say. Well, that must’ve gone too fast, didn’t it? It definitely is a crazy thing that you suddenly kissed him, with no hesitation. “You know what, I think my parents will kill me if they knew I kissed you without hesitation, especially my dad!” You joke as the two of you exchange laughters in the gazebo.

“It’s getting a bit late, isn’t it? Do you want to go back to the venue to say our goodbyes to our friends or do you wanna go somewhere else?” He glances at you as he stands up, “Well, Steven, you wanna go to a coffee shop?”, he raises a brow and shrugs, “Oh? What’s up? Don’t have money or something? I’m always willing to treat you, I asked you out on this little date, not you.” She smiles and grabs his hand.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

They both leave the area and end up spending time in a small coffee shop that happens to be in a walking distance, the day ends with the both of them falling asleep in (Y/N)’s house, her parents don’t mind as they’re both sat in the couch with Steven laying on her shoulder, the both of them still wearing their formal attire.

> end. <3

#steven grant x reader fluff #moon knight imagine #steven grant x you #steven grant x female reader #mr knight x reader #fluff #mr knight x you #steven grant fluff #marvel cinematic universe #mcu imagines #moon knight mcu #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x y/n #steven grant x y/n #mr knight x y/n #oscar isaac imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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thot-of-khonshu · 2 years

Text

French Lessons

Pairing: Steven Grant X f! reader

Summary: You had been in desperate want to learn French, but the absolute droll of learning through a boring app was no fun. Coincidentally, you meet a brilliant gift shop clerk at the museum who can teach you French while you can teach him a thing or two about love.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you agree that you are 18 years or older)

Word Count: 5K

Content: Explicit Smut, pining, masturbation references, dry humping, fingering, handjob, fluff, romance, French, Steven Grant, slight reference to Marc Spector

Notes: My Steven fic has finally arrived!! I'm hoping to turn this into a series because I have quite a few other ideas and I don't want to leave you hanging with just a taste of the two of them. But I hope you like it and share/reblog! Love y'all!

Updated Note: Wow!! Thank you so much for all of your kind words and notes. Part 2 is currently in the works and coming soon.

Part 2

Bonjour! Je m'appelle Vivienne Rousseau et bienvenue à votre premier cours de français’!

Hello! My name is Vivienne Rousseau and welcome to your first French lesson! Did you understand my first sentence? If not, not to worry! I will teach you how to learn and with the right dedication you’ll be speaking fluently in the next 6 months! Today’s lesson is all about beginnings…

You whine as you raise your volume on your phone to stay focused. However, the tall statues and figurines in front of you were not helping like you thought it would. You had come to the National Museum to gain some peace and clarity while starting this new venture. French was always a language you had dreamed of learning, so why not start now? Sure, the grating voice of Vivienne Rousseau would drag you along through it, but this was a new adventure. The start of something interesting…

As long as you could pay attention. It wasn’t your fault Vivienne’s voice sounded like a high-pitched foghorn. But the reviews for her app were rave and they wouldn’t take your credit card information for another week, so if it became a bigger drag than it already was, you could cancel your free trial.

You walked throughout the museum trying to focus on your lesson, but rewound the same phrases over and over.

Je m’apelle Vivienne. Je suis ravi de vous rencontrer.

You were thinking it wasn’t the pyramids and statues that weren’t helping you focus, but you figured it was time for you to leave the museum, regardless. Before the trip home, you stopped at the gift shop for a bottle of water. You walked over to the gift shop counter t o grab the attention of a man entirely more focused on his Egyptian mythology book than having to sell stuffed scarabs. He looked slightly disheveled, with black curly tendrils falling all over his head. When you made eye contact with him, he had dark crescents under his eyes and a timid smile. He looked so nervous to a complete stranger, you couldn’t imagine how he was towards his coworkers.

Reaching for your water, the cord of your earbuds snapped and broke free from your phone. If you hadn’t noticed by the snapping of the cord, you would’ve noticed from Vivienne’s grating voice booming throughout your speaker:

Bonjour! Comment ça vas?

“Bien, merci. Et vous-même?” You look up and the tired, timid man has spoken, meeting your eyes with a softer smile.

You smile back and laugh. “Sorry about that. This is what happens when I don’t get earbuds from the last five years.”

“Well, it’s not about the earbuds, innit? It’s what’s in them that matters. Learning French?” He asks.

“If you could even call it that. I thought coming to the museum would help me focus up, but this woman I’m listening to sounds well braindead.”

“Je suis désolé. D'après ce que j'ai entendu, elle ressemblait à un bouton absolu.” The crinkles in the corner of his eyes became more prominent and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sorry. From what I heard, she sounded like an absolute knob.” He translated. He introduced himself. Steven. With a V. You asked Steven with a V if he’d like to make some extra money on the side and before you knew it, you were meeting at the bistro every Wednesday for an hour of French lessons with Steven with a V.

Steven was not as drab and droning as Vivienne Rousseau, quite the opposite. Before and after your hour was up, you found yourselves talking more and more about your days; him describing the gift shop and his aspirations to be a tour guide despite his awful boss Donna. You couldn’t understand how he wasn’t. It seemed like everything he talked about could circle back to his love for Egyptology and the wonder of the gods and goddesses. How does someone like that know so much about it but he’s stuck behind a desk selling crisps and plushies?

After your 3rd meeting, you’d plucked up the courage to ask him. The first thing he did was look at you after those compliments with such earnest gratitude you felt your insides melt. The second thing he told you was that he had a sleeping disorder that kept him further back in life than he’d wanted. He aspired to have adventure, and life and zest as much as he could, but for right now… the gift shop was just enough.

That was the first night you had gone to bed thinking of how kind his smile was, chasing the warmth throughout your body it had given you as if you’d just taken a shot. You’d found yourself eager for the next lesson, to hear about his new studies, to watch his hands as he notated on your writing.

You’d gotten to the bistro thirty minutes early, in your same corner table at the patio, waiting for Steven.

You waited.

And you waited.

Two hours later, he never showed.

You felt your insides deflate as you traveled home. You’d checked your text messages every ten minutes hoping to see a sign that he was okay or if he was busy or if he just didn’t want to come. Maybe he’d seen the way you looked at him in your last lesson and found it inappropriate?

You wished Steven standing you up would’ve completely turned you off to him, but unfortunately, it just had him occupying your mind more and more until the sounds of his voice describing tales of the green jewel lulled you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to your phone going off, although it wasn’t your alarm. Steven was in the middle of writing you a flurry of text messages with apologies about how he wasn’t able to make it last night and how his sleeping had completely mucked his week up. He asked if you were free that night for your lesson and a free meal to make it up. While you agreed to see him, your worry and apprehension weren’t immediately gone. You weren’t sure if this was just his common excuse he had given women, but, it was worth it to hear him out.

You had gotten to the restaurant and there at your familiar corner table was Steven Grant, looking like the saddest dog you had ever seen. As soon as you were in eye view, he walked up to you, moving to place his hand on your shoulder but hesitating. He moved it back to clasp his other palm, whispering your name.

“I am so deeply, deeply sorry. I go to bed on Saturday and then I woke up, and it’s Thursday and I feel like I got hit by a double-decker bus and— “

“Je te pardonne. Mangeons.” You had said. I forgive you. Let’s Eat. And he flashed you that damn smile again, and you felt your insides crack like an egg to the stove.

There wasn’t as much lesson as there was dinner this night as you and Steven had discussed every topic you could. Work, music, books, television. No topic was left off the table as you waited for your food. The server brought out the very vegan Steven’s steaming lentil soup and what was supposed to be your salmon was replaced with a large burger.

“I’m so sorry miss, it’s a bit of a mess in the kitchen back there tonight. I’ll get this sorted out straight away.” The server said to you. You saw the steam coming out of Steven’s soup and instead of digging in, his hands were placed politely on his lap.

When the server came back out, he had brought trout, which you were unfortunately allergic to or else you would’ve scarfed it down by then. More than a half hour had gone by and you were still waiting for your dinner. And there was Steven, hands no longer in his lap but marking your French in his thick glasses. You took a mental note of how good he looked in them while cursing yourself for doing so.

“Steven, if you want to eat, I completely understand. Your food must already be freezing.” You said, eying the way his hands held his pen.

“Not to worry.” He said cheerfully. “The great thing about lentils is that you can eat them hot or cold and I want to make sure you’re taken care of. Laisse moi prendre soin de toi.” You immediately felt your face redden and were so glad that your food had come back correctly this time so you could bury your head in your salmon and vegetables.

When you went home that night, you thought of his thick fingers, his kind eyes and the repeat of him saying “Laisse moi prendre soin de toi” in your head as you slowly slipped your fingers under the covers, dreaming of how your French tutor would say that to the heat between your legs.

Laisse moi prendre soin de toi. Let me take care of you.

He wasn’t late for the next lesson. He was there when you had arrived, 15 minutes before, to counter the overeager 30 minutes versus strolling in right on time. You wanted him to know you care about these lessons, but maybe not too much.

When you had walked over to the table, Steven had another downtrodden look on his face. His lips were turned down, and he was looking down at the ground. When he heard your footsteps, his face immediately brightened and damn, this was not helping your crush.

“Bad day at the museum?” You greet him as he sullenly nodded.

“Donna started taking the piss at me as soon as I got into work. A child — a child!! — came up to me and asked me where the bloody bathroom was and all I hear after I show her where it is—‘Stevie, you’re not a tour guide. It’ll never happen, so stop trying.’” He mocked Donna with a nasally grating voice.

“I’m sorry. It’s like she doesn’t even give you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Exactly!!” Steven excitedly exclaims as a few people from other tables looked around. He muttered apologies. “I’m just so tired of her thinking I’m some bumbling git. It’s not like she knows where the Hathor temple is and she could answer someone if they asked her. She wouldn’t even know Hathor if she bit her in the arse.”

You giggled as he went on. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Let’s get on with our lesson soon, but do you mind if I eat here again tonight? She wouldn’t even let me take a lunch today!”

“Well, since you had an absolutely shit day, I think it’s my turn to get dinner. And I’ll do one extra.” The server came around to your table as Steven looked at you, puzzled.

“Excuse me, sir, but can you recommend your finest French wine?”

A couple of hours later and two bottles of wine down, dinner was finished but there yet again wasn’t much of a French lesson. Giddy and bubbly from wine, you and Steven continued your endless back and forth and it felt like you could talk to him about just about anything. You saw him look at his phone screen to look at the time and you felt your heart sink a bit.

“Oh bugger, it’s already 9 PM.” Steven frowned. “I don’t want to keep you too long. I’m sure you have plenty to do.”

“No! Wednesdays are always our nights.” You saw his smile widen when you said that, the crinkles in his eyes deepening. “Besides, I wouldn’t just consider tonight a French lesson but me trying to cheer up a friend who seems to have had a bad day.”

“Not so bad now, innit?” He grinned. You looked into his eyes with no reluctance, the alcohol warming your body giving you courage to keep contact. He had beautiful, dark eyes and his nose was so strong and defined. You knew better than to even look at his lips, though, because once you did, you would stare too long and then goodbye to your friend and French tutor.

You heard a slight rumble and felt droplets hit your shoulders. First quietly and then pounding as the rain came through like a. Luckily you had already paid for yours and Steven’s food so you ran under the patio’s awning, Steven’s arm was halfway out of his jacket when he ran over to you and then flipped the jacket over your head.

“What do we do now? I know we’re having a great time, but you’re also not exactly paying me to gossip during a rainstorm.” Steven shouted over the loud rain.

Liquid courage be damned. You thought of an offer that you didn’t want to come off the wrong way, but it was raining and you did pay him for a lesson you hadn’t exactly completed. You bit your lip in contemplation and you could’ve sworn in the corner of your eye you saw Steven eyeing your swollen bottom lip.

“My flat isn’t too far, if you don’t mind it.” Steven looked at you for what felt like a long moment and you held your breath. He nodded and kept his jacket above your head the entire way.

As soon as you had gotten to your flat, you thought the alcohol would wear off, but the last bottle you two had shared was just kicking in. The two of you ran and giggled back to your apartment like a couple of schoolchildren, and you felt so refreshed. You loved that you could be silly with him.

“This is it! Sorry I haven’t fixed it up much.” You said, tossing your shoes on the floor and your keys on your counter.

“It’s much better than my place.” Steven looked around. “You wouldn’t be surprised though, loads of books, loads of paperwork, a goldfish named Gus.”

You snorted. “Come on, my books and my desk are in the bedroom.”

He followed you into your bedroom as you turned on the desk light, lit enough to illuminate the space needed but not too bright to cause a headache. You fell onto your bed, back first, with your arms stretched out to the back of your head. It felt so good to close your eyes. It felt so good being tipsy. It felt so good being with Steven. Where is Steven? When you opened your eyes, there he was at your desk, eyeing your stack of French books.

“I have to say this is quite the collection, miss.” He took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and slipped them on and you had to shut your eyes quickly before the heat between your legs grew to an uncomfortable amount. “Baudelaire, Marceline Desbordes-Valmore and you have my favorite, Victor Hugo.”

“No way, Victor Hugo is my favorite as well!” You shot up excitedly. He had Hugo’s book in his hand as he skimmed through.

“Le Roi S’amuse, I love absolutely love this play.”

“Can I tell you something?” You swung your feet off of your bed to distract your bubbling nerves. “I’ve really wanted to pick up French just so I can read more French literature I can fall in love with. See more plays, get more cultured.”

“That’s what I like about you.” Steven said, bringing the book with him as moved next to you on the bed. “We haven’t exactly gone over this term yet, but when I think about you, I think of your joie de vivre. Your lust for life. You see things and opportunities and you take them.”

You feel yourself redden. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I just mean, if it was the other way around, I could’ve never walked up to an attractive stranger and asked them to teach me French.” He looks down nervously for a brief moment and then steadies himself, giving you deep eye contact. You’re almost rendered speechless.

“Are you telling me you find yourself attractive, Steven Grant?” You whisper. Your eyes are locked on each other. You’ve never seen someone with such dark, kind eyes.

“Can I tell you which verse is my favorite?” You break the silence. “It would probably do me good to have you hear some of my French tonight.” You giggle. Steven doesn’t giggle. He slowly nods as your liquid courage takes over. Your hands are shaking, but you feel the electricity.

You slip your hands onto his and help guide him to your favorite passage. His eyes don’t leave your face. It’s as if he’s studying you like a new art installation.

“La vie est une fleur, l’amour en est le miel.” You recite.

“Life is a flower, love is its honey.” Steven translates. His hands are so, so warm on yours.

“C’est la colombe unie à l’aigle dans le ciel,” you continue, briefly daring to look up at his eyes, which are now on your hands. He looks absolutely dazed, as if he can’t believe this is real.

“It’s the dove united with the eagle in the sky,” You notice Steven's hands are shaking too.

“C’est la grâce tremblante à la force appuyée,” Do you dare to move your hands?

“It’s the trembling grace to the leaning force,” He’s looking directly at you again. No wine, no French, no lentil soup could save you now.

“C’est ta main dans ma main doucement oubliée…” You rub your hands on top of his and his fingers feel exactly how you thought they would, and more.

“It’s your hand in my gently forgotten hand…” He moves one hand to your shoulder. Your heart feels as if it’s in your throat.

“Aimons-nous! aimons-nous!” There are exclamation points in the text, but all that comes out of your mouth is a faint whisper.

“Let’s love each other. Let’s love each other.” Somehow, your faint whisper is louder than Steven’s.

And then silence. You feel yourself gravitate towards him, the heat of your lips meeting as they finally collide and give you the sweetest satisfaction.

Steven Grant’s lips are softer than you could have ever fantasized. He’s gentle, slow and leaves you lingering for more. One hand is still on your Victor Hugo book, rubbing the palm of your hand as your fingers are laced together.

You break apart briefly and lean your foreheads on each other, grinning as he rubbed your shoulder.

“I feel like I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you.” Steven confesses. You take your other hand and run it through his tussled black curls as you continue to kiss him. He follows your lead, matching the pace of your kisses and, albeit awkwardly initially, slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste him.

As the kiss deepened, you heard the book slam onto the ground with a large thud as you lifted yourself onto his lap. You heard Steven gasp, and you broke the kiss.

“Is everything alright?” You scan his eyes for any discomfort.

“I’m alright, love.” His hands continue gripping your shoulders tightly. You place your hands on them, moving them slowly from your shoulders to the curve of your hips.

“You don’t have to worry.” You whisper into his lips. “You can touch me however you want.” He exhaled and gripped your hip with more confidence. His other hand moved to the back of your neck as your lips crashed together, moving at a faster pace. You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, which causes him to moan. You pushed against him, slowly rocking on him, your skirt slipping up by the friction.

He groans before breaking the kiss. “I should let you know something. I’m not like other men.”

“That’s precisely what I like about you, Steven.” You move your lips to the warmth of his neck, sucking on him as he groans again, shaking his head as if he needs to get out of his trance.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve told you about my sleeping disorder… how it causes me to miss certain days and how I feel so knackered afterwards. It’s… caused me to miss quite a bit out of life.”

“And I can help you make it up.” You nibble on his ear.

“I’m a virgin.” He blurts out so fast you almost miss it.

You take a moment to settle into his lap, hands still firmly smoothing out his soft curls. He looks down with a tinge of shame and embarrassment that you’re puzzled by, so you reassure him by lifting his chin up and giving him a soft kiss.

“Hey, come on now. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

“Yeah, at least not with the right person.” He takes his slightly shaky hand to hold the side of your face as you kiss his palm.

“Well, we can go at whatever pace you like tonight.”

"I just want to make you feel good.” Steven whispers. “Show me how to do that and I’ll be satisfied enough tonight.”

“But I want you to be satisfied too, Steven. And I think I know of a way to do that.”

You press your lips against his, but this time hungrier, needier. You wanted to show him how much you had been pining for him all of these weeks. Steven could steadily match with your pace, boldly biting your lower lip and smiling as he heard a moan exit your mouth.

You move his hand from your face, slowly sliding it down your neck, to the curve of your breast. Steven let out a whimper as you guided his hand to knead your breast. He stared at your hands together, mouth agape, eyes hooded, in a trance.

You moved his hand from your breast to your stomach, to your thighs as you guided his hand up your dress. You planted soft kisses on him while you guided him, but when you stop at the heat between your legs, he’s absolutely speechless. You remove your hand from his, letting him decide his next step.

He rubs the outline of the wetness of your underwear as you sigh in pleasure.

“Steven…” You whisper.

“I could never get tired of hearing my name said like that.” He sighed, still looking at you in absolute unabashed awe. You removed the straps from your sundress, exposing your naked breasts, and instead of the trembling nerves Steven had shown you, he was massaging and rubbing at one nipple while still rubbing the outline of your underwear.

“That feel good?” Steven murmured.

“So good Steven.” Your nipples had started to harden under his touch. Steven removed his hand from your crotch so he could steady himself and focus on putting his breasts in your mouth. He took ample time with both of them, switching back and forth and sucking on them with such passion that his eyes were shut and he was moaning, silently praising your chest.

After a few moments of bliss, you stopped him, lifting his head up as he could watch you get off of his lap and onto your knees. Just the simple action of you kneeling between his raging erection caused him to start quietly panting, not wanting any sudden movements to ruin this moment.

You unfastened his belt, eyes still met with his as you saw the bulge from his boxers. There was a slight wet spot of pre-cum on the fabric and you felt your mouth water with anticipation. You pulled his boxers down so his cock could spring free and you weren’t only surprised but very pleased.

Steven’s cock was so thick you could barely touch your thumb when wrapping your hand around him. He was already so firm and hard for you, veins slightly protruding out and more liquid glistening at the top of his tip.

“Oh my God.” Steven chanted as you rubbed him up and down. “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t believe you’re so big.” You say, a bit hypnotized yourself. You had fantasized about this moment but couldn’t believe it was actually happening and better than you had ever expected.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” Steven strained out. “As much as I would love for you to put your mouth… all… over me… I think our fun would end rather quickly, and that leaves us with a bit of a problem.”

You slightly turn your mouth, upset you can’t have your mouth take the challenge of swallowing his cock just yet, but then you come up with an even better idea, giving Steven a devilish grin.

You slip his boxers back on, his bulge even more prominent than before, and Steven looks up at you with a puzzled look. You wrapped your legs around his hips and sunk your clothed crotch into his.

“Oh, fuck.” Steven moaned, calling out your name. “Fuck, that feels amazing.” He fastened his hands on your hips as you slowly rocked into him. You put your forehead onto his, breathing in each other’s air as Steven quickened the pace, the pressure of his thickness tightening your bundle of nerves. You started to grind onto him, hard and fast, as he held himself steady with the softness of your ass.

The warm pressure of his cock was about to make you come undone. His head was buried in between your breasts, not sucking at them but just breathing you in, just to make sure you were real. That this was real.

Steven pushed his crotch up against you at a pace that you knew would unravel you. Your moans together became more rhythmic.

“Steven, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You whined. You brought your hand not tangled in his curls to your clit as you began to rub it, this just quickened Steven’s pace as you bounced on his crotch, his hands gripped on your ass so tightly you knew you’d have bruises later.

As your moans got louder, you felt yourself release, your orgasm throbbing throughout your entire body. Steven came quickly after, abruptly stopping as he released his warmth into his boxers. The two of you panted together, heads still connected through your foreheads. Closer than ever.

“Wow.” Steven meekly whispered. “That was better than I ever imagined it would be. Tu es exquis."

”Tu es incroyable.” You whispered back, looking at him as he smiled warmly at you. “See, I’ve been paying attention.”

The two of you laid there for a few moments until Steven went into your bathroom to clean up. You had slowly stripped away your dress and your bra, nestling under your duvet, leaving some space behind you for the wonderful man you were waiting for.

A few moments passed, and you felt his warm body surrounding you, arms around your waist as he lay there naked, reciting Victor Hugo’s romantic poetry into your ear.

“I reckon if I can’t give you a full French lesson, this was the best substitute.” Steven’s hands were circling lazily around your arms and you briefly reminisced about the time when he didn’t even know if a hug was appropriate. And now here he is in your bed, wearing no clothes and reciting poetry into your ear.

Sometimes real life really eclipses fantasy.

“I’d say this absolutely makes up for it, and then some. But… I think we’re going to have to go into double time next lesson to make up for it.” You grinned.

“You’re right, maybe an oral exam will have to do.” Steven awkwardly quipped and you both laughed at his awkwardly adorable attempt at double entendre.

You turned around and opened your arms up towards him. He moved his head towards your chest, arms gripping your waist tightly with the same fervor as earlier, as if you would float away and this was all a dream.

You buried your fingers in his curls, gripping your free hand to the back of his head until you drifted asleep.

Steven Grant, the shy gift shop clerk that had offered you French lessons.

Steven Grant, the brilliant, burgeoning Egyptologist that brightened your life with his stories and his warmth.

Steven Grant. The start of something new.

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colorfultyrantearthquake · 2 years

Text

Hold me tight | Steven Grant x reader

Description: You have a degree in psychology. Steven Grant gets to know you. One day, he is full of confusion. You were there to stand by him like you always do.

Warnings: Spoiler: Moon knight. Fluff♡, angst.

Words: 2000+

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After a long day at the museum, Steven was going home. He oddly felt down, tired, dragging his feet all the way home. He didn't know what's happening to him...from forgetting situations to skipping days. At first, he thought he had a sleeping disorder, but now he just knows something is terribly wrong. Halting his tracks, he pulled out his phone.

9.30 pm

You stretched your arms as you sat in your pyjamas in front of the tv, it was the weekend and you wanted to relax as much as possible. Grabbing the pop corn, you started munching on it as your mind wandered to Steven. You thought a lot about him, his soft, exhausted features, his calm voice and his oh so cute demeanor. You were sure you caught feelings for him, not knowing exactly when through the time you knew each other. But you certainly did.

Thinking about the first time you saw him, he was sitting beside the statue eating his sandwich when you asked him to take a photo of you, he took the photo then you thanked him and left.

Next morning, you found him on your doorstep. Alarmed and very curious you opened the door.

"Hellooo, good morning. I hope I didn't disturb you." He said while waving shyly at you. You kept staring at him without answering. Watching your face, Steven's smile fell as his face turned into one of realization.

"Bloody hell sorry I- your wallet fell yesterday and I thought it was best if I return it to you but it was very late so I thought I'd wait till the morning, I know this wasn't the best way but I really had no choice and I thought it'd be best if I just-"

"Steven?" You asked softly as your eyes caught the name. He was nervous, face flushed. He looked wrecked, hair disheveled, bags under his eyes with dark circles, face filled with stress. Your first thought was that he was definitely insomniac.

At your question, he furrowed his eyebrows, then followed your gaze to the name tag on his shirt. "Oh yeah my name's Steven...with a V." He said as he looked up at you, eyes shining with a bright smile.

Maybe you fell for him at this moment? You don't know, but you were certain that this was going to be a long friendship.

You were pulled out of your reverie with your phone ringing, grabbing it, you saw Steven's name flash.

"Hey Steven, how're you doing?" You said cheerfully, glad to hear his voice, but slightly worried.

"Uhh hey, love. Good evening, I hope you're good...."

"Am fine, Steven. Are you okay?" Slightly shifting, you started to feel the fear in his voice. "Yeah, no actually... I have no idea, I feel lost a-and I don't know what to do.. can I come by for a while?"

"Yeah sure of course you can Steven."

"Alright, dove. Thank you very much."

Hanging up, you started to tidy up the place, worry taking it's place in the pit of your stomach, you made some salad knowing he might be hungry.

Doorbell ringing, you hurried to open it, seeing Steven made your heart flutter, your fingers shaking as you pulled the sleeves of your top tightly, feeling nervous all of a sudden. "Come in, Steven." You stepped aside as he bolted inside the flat. He sat on the couch holding his bag tightly. He looked stressed enough to burst. You walked slowly towards him, kneeling in front of him, you studied him slowly. Fingers slightly shaking, rapid breaths. Steven looked at you and said "I--- I don't really know what's happening to me. Daily situations that I have no idea about. Hours, days I cannot recall or remember, not a single cell in me knows why this is happening. I am so confused and, yes God, so so scared of it. At the beginning I thought I had a sleeping problem but now... Now I know it definitely isn't." Steven said shakily as he held his bag tighter. Feeling panick rising into him, you caught both his hands in yours, tugging them slowly away from the bag. You held his hands gently, running your thumbs on the back of his hands until he calmed down. "Steven" you said gazing at his big hands wrapped in your smaller ones, heart thumping slightly feeling his fingers against yours sending sparks straight to your stomach. Shaking your head you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

This is not why you're here with him at this moment, he needs your help. Focus. You told yourself.

"Steven, it's okay. Whatever you're feeling, no matter what's happening to you it's okay, we're going to figure it out together. It'll all be easy and clear once we know what's really happening. You just need to breathe. Breathe, Steven." You talked to him in the calmest way could ever be found, allowing your heart to seep warmth into your words. Steven visibly relaxed after your words, his hands felt lighter as you kept holding them.

"Do you think I'm... Mad?" Steven said hesitantly, eyes full of fear and sadness meeting yours. Your heart tugged at his words. "Steven, no never say that. You're not mad, we don't know what's happen-"

"I hear voices." He interrupted you, "It feels like having a conversation with multiple versions of myself. Yet all of them are far from being me.... Does that make any sense?" You listened to him quietly, trying to wrap up the information he's giving you. "There's one voice that stands out the most, insecure, drained of life, feels unworthy of all the good things in his life. When I hear it, it sounds so broken and horrible I almost lose my consciousness after hearing it." Steven was looking the entire time at your hands, his grip tightening the more he told you about that voice. You didn't understand yet, he didn't either.

Suddenly, he looked at the clock, noticing it was 12.30, he retreated his hands from yours, carrying his bag, he stood up.

"Steven where are you going?" You followed behind him, almost hurt at his sudden, unexpected movements.

"Home, lovely. I have burdened you enough with my problems." He smiles a half smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Steven needs help. Walking closer to him, you stepped between him and the door.

"Stay here tonight." You didn't know where that came from, but it felt like the right thing.

Steven's eyebrows shot up in surprise, then confusion and refusal. "Dove, you know I can't do that, I have a problem, a big one, I don't know what it is, I can't stay. I could easily hurt you and never remember.

I. Cannot. Risk. That." That was your first time seeing Steven be so serious. You walked closer to him, searching his face for any discomfort. Maybe he didn't like the place? Maybe he doesn't want to share it with you? But all you saw was fear. Just fear. You hugged Steven tightly, taking both of you by surprise. You rubbed his back softly, wanting him to calm down, wanting him to stay.

Not knowing what to do, Steven held his arms hesitantly in the air, then slowly, they rested on your shoulders. Although Steven was the one who needed help and care, you felt safety all around you as you held him tight, arms around his waist, face resting on his chest. "It's going to be alright. Nothing will happen, Steven. I want to help you, I really do. I can help you, actually. If you stay, we might be able to figure it out, right?" You looked up at him. Steven held his breath for what seemed like forever, calculating every possible situation. "Alright. I'll stay."

Sighing heavily, he nodded at you as you took his bag to put it on the chair beside the door. You locked the door and went into the kitchen to give Steven the salad you made. Two minutes later, you came into the living room.

"Steven I made you a salad I know you must be terribly hung-" your sentence was cut off when your eyes laid on Steven. He took off his jacket, shirt and shoes. Clad only in his black pants and white under shirt, Steven was snoring softly on the couch, one arm on his eyes shielding him from the light. The scene didn't help your crush on him, he looked thousand times gorgeous, looking so peaceful and calm, not knowing any trouble, his face relaxed as he drifted into dream world. You brought a baby blue light blanket to cover Steven. Turning the lights off, you went to sleep in your room.

3.45 am

Fluttering your eyes open, your ears caught shuffling from the kitchen. Thinking it was a hungry Steven in search of food, you lifted the covers off to go check on him.

Turning around the hall entering the kitchen, you froze to the sight in front of you.

There sat Steven on your kitchen table, a plate of sandwiches in front of him. Lights still turned off, the warm orange lights of the street reflected on the surface of the table. He didn't acknowledge your presence at all. You didn't expect that.

"Steven." You said, waiting for him to look at you, to notice you're awake. Nothing.

"Are you okay?" Taking a step closer to him, he kept eating his sandwich. Your eyes averted to the sandwich. A pastrami sandwich. What the fu- Steven would never eat that.

"Stev-"

"I'm not Steven." Eyes glued to the plate, he spoke. Voice completely different from that of Steven's, much more firm. Your blood ran cold, eyes noticing the change in him this time. All of him.

His face...more stern, lips tight, jaw tense. Sensing your eyes on him, he looked up at you. His gaze made you shudder, both fear and curiosity. Recollecting yourself, you remembered Steven's problem. This, clearly, was the problem.

"Sure you're not." You spoke slowly in a low voice, not knowing who or what you're dealing with. He took a bite, still holding your gaze, silence surrounded you both as you kept staring at each other. Brown warm eyes turned into ice cold ones, non-fearing, confident, empty. This was the complete opposite of Steven.

Finishing his plate, he took it to the sink, washed it, dried it, then put it back in it's place. Turning around to face you, he leaned on the table, crossing his arms. You saw his biceps flex with the movement, noticing how strongly built he was, you almost swore that the body changed from that of Steven's. You noticed a necklace hiding into his clothes, you never saw it on Steven. It looked hot.

Smirking lightly, he clicked his tongue making your eyes snap up to his. "It's rude to stare, sweetheart. Did Steven not teach you that?" For someone who's meeting you for the first time, he seemed very relaxed, straightforward. You felt everything all at once, fear, confusion, excitement, curiosity. You kept staring at him silently. Feeling your past confidence fade completly.

"Cat got your tongue?" He said as he moved towards your fridge, opening it to get a beer. He sat back on the table, taking a swig of his beer, very relaxed into the chair with daring eyes studying you, daring you to speak. His American accent ringing bells in your head.

"Who are you?" You questioned. He looked down at his hands, then up again at you.

"Marc."

"How?"

"It happens."

"Where's Steven?"

Marc kept drinking his beer, coming to a finish, he didn't answer you for a while. He went back to the couch, sitting on it. You followed after him sitting at the far corner of the same couch.

Looking at his face, you saw no evident emotion, he was passive. You were growing anxious, starting to bounce your leg. "Where's Steven, Marc?" You emphasized his name. His head snapped at you. "You're smart, you'll figure it out soon enough." His eyes looking at your leg bouncing, your hands restless. He can feel your irritation.

You huffed loudly, not knowing which way to choose. You ran your hands through your hair, pulling it into a tight pony tail. In your living room, sat a man very familiar to you, yet you were meeting him for the first time. Your brain racked to solve the equation before he disappeared. Two people, one body. Same face, same hair, same everything

Different personalities, different voices, accents, behaviour.

You bolted up towards your room, turning on the lights, your hands searched hurriedly through your psychology books. Turning the pages of a certain book rapidly, your eyes scanning the lines rapidly. Breathing heavily, you sat the book back in it's place.

Now, everything makes sense.

You went back to the couch, watching Marc sit in the same place silently.

"Marc." You said. He didn't look at you, only staring at the black screen of your tv.

"I have to tell Steven." You told him slowly. He tensed when he heard your words, hands clenching and unclenching. You sat carefully beside him.

"I had it all under control until very lately. This barrier between me and Steven slowly disappeared. I no longer control when he fronts or not." He rubbed his face in frustration. You looked at him intently, wanting to ask but holding back.

"I don't want Steven to know, because then he'll panick, he'll freak out and the idea of being the alter will make him angry and upset. I don't want that... I care for Steven."

Although you didn't know anything about him, you knew he was being completely honest.

"I understand, Marc, truly I do, but I can't hide this from Steven. He won't hate you" you tried reasoning with him. Marc scoffed at you. "Won't hate me? He already does. Look at all the stress and frustration he's living in. He can't remember half his life because of me. Of course he'll hate me." Marc shook his head, disappointment itched on his face.

Feeling brave, your hand hovered over his shoulder, not knowing whether to touch him or not. Brushing your fingers lightly against his shoulder, Marc nearly jolted from his seat, scaring you. At this, you retracted your hand slowly, but then decided against it. Firmly planting your hand on his shoulder, you looked him in the eye trying to read whatever was under this menacing face.

"What was that for?" You asked.

Marc's mouth almost turned down at your question but quickly regained his passive look. "I am always alert around cats, they scratch" He winked at you. Your face flushed at his comment as you retreated your hand.

"Instead of exposing me to Steven, why don't you admit your feelings for him?"

You stilled at his words. What the hell. How did he know? You felt blood rise into your cheeks making your whole face fire up.

"You thought I wouldn't notice? Girl everytime he looks at you you almost have a heart attack." His smirk covered his face at your look. "He's such an idiot to be honest, I don't know how he doesn't see it. But I tell ya, try to show your feelings for him. You won't be disappointed." Marc winked again. Another minute passed in silence until Marc spoke again: "He can always see me in the mirror by the way. I have to go."

Before you had a proper chance to answer, you saw his muscles tense, eyes rolling back, and suddenly.....

"Wha---? Dove?" Steven was back, looking around confused, he looked at you and saw your face flushed with you on the brink of tears. Happy or sad tears? You didn't know.

"Dove are you alright? What happened?" Steven moved closer to you as he touched your forehead. "You're burning up, sweets. Did you catch a cold?" Steven studied your features slowly. Steven winced audibly "I hurt you, didn't I? Oh my God this is nonsense, I told you I'd hurt you." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, rubbing his thighs trying to calm down.

You grabbed his face with your hands, remembering Steven talking about the voice in his head, it was Marc. Remembering Marc's words about Steven. Coming to a conclusion yourself, that Marc is nothing but Steven, they're both one. One of them is pure innocence, having the most beautiful feelings. The other is the dark side, not knowing a moment of peace and love.

"Steven, I think I can help you."

Steven looked at you hopefully, almost non beleiveng what you're saying. "What're you saying? How? Do you know what my problem is?" Steven caught your hands in his bringing them down. You wanted to tell him about Marc, and you needed Marc's help. Will you take the risk, not knowing whether Marc will help or not?

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Steven lovingly.

"Speak up, love. What is it?" Steven rubbed your hands, pleading you.

"Steven, look in the mirror." You said, praying to all the Gods out there that Marc will help you, that he's listening to you right now. Steven was confused, you took him by the hand and stood up, leading him to the mirror in your bedroom, you both sat on the edge of your bed facing it. "Look in the mirror, Steven. Tell me what you see or hear." You tell him slowly. Steven looks between you and the mirror confused. "Love, are you alright? I see nothing there it's just us, me and you." Steven kept looking into the mirror. Your heart sank, fearing Marc won't show up.

"Please" you whispered it so softly, as you too looked into the mirror.

"Hm? Did you say something?" Steven looked at you, you were about to answer when his head snapped to the mirror, you heard it crack.

"What? Who's there? Who are you?" Steven's voice came out panicked.

"Steven, Steven honey calm down." You tried calming him as you held him tight. He looked at you, then back at the mirror. "It's okay, Steven. Listen to him." He looked at you for assurance. You nodded your head encouraging him. He swallowed thickly, before looking back at the mirror.

You let Marc speak to him while you held Steven tight, you cherished this moment, it will either turn to the best moment of his life, or the worst. Either way you wanted to be there for him.

Rubbing his arm in small, comforting circles, you stayed in your spot beside Steven for almost 20 minutes. He kept staring at the mirror in silence, probably processing whatever Marc was telling him. Your embrace helping him cope with this shit happening.

Steven suddenly looked at you, then back at the mirror, he nodded his head slowly. You wondered what Marc told him.

Finishing the conversation, Steven turned to face you.

"Bloody hell, I can't-- I can't gather myself." Steven shook slowly in your arms. "Breathe, Steven. What happened?"

Steven evened his breathing, looking at the mirror, waiting for another scare.

He then looked at you, took a deep breath and completely exploded.

"I am an alter to someone, Marc Spector. He told me you met him an hour ago when I fell asleep. He told me we've been in the same body for a long time. I am an alter. I don't even own the life I have." Steven looked helpless, you kept caressing him softly, letting him take it all out.

"I--- I don't know how to feel, it feels like I don't even know myself. He, Marc, told me, he told me that he lost control a while ago, our lives started bleeding into each other for an unknown reason. He said that, he said that he won't be in my way as much as he can, that he'll let me live the life I deserve, that he won't take anything from me as long as he doesn't need to. I don't get it, I just, I can't understand how would this go? How my life would be after this? I mean would there be a schedule or something? I don't get it." Steven was panting by the time he was done.

Taking a deep breath, you spoke: "Look, Steven. Right now, you don't have to do anything. We'll figure it out, along with Marc of course." You both automatically looked to the mirror. "It's going to be alright, the conversation I had with him, he really cares about you Steven. I know he didn't show up. I know you're frustrated and it's completely new and strange. But he really cares about you, he just doesn't know how to express it or show it, he didn't know how you'd accept it. He was afraid you'd hate him." You ended your sentence reluctantly, watching as Steven's face turned to look at you.

"Hate him?" He thought for a moment. "No, I don't hate him," he pointed towards the mirror, "We're technically... One? It feels awkward to say it but that's the truth, if I am him and he's me then we're one. Now I actually am pissed for the amount of embarrassing situations I had to go through, but I don't hate you, Marc. And I am much happier to know I am actually not mad." Steven ended his words smiling to the mirror sincerely, you hoped Marc was there to hear Steven's words.

"What I want now though, is for you to keep holding me this tight. I couldn't, can't and wouldn't make it without you, dove." Steven's eyes held hearts as he admired you. You felt butterflies flutter in your stomach at Steven's words. You didn't have the courage in you to tell him your true feelings, but you were sure more than everything that you'd love nothing but to show him what he meant to you every single minute of your life.

You held Steven tightly in your arms as he rested his head on your chest, both gazing at the mirror.

You admiring your reflection.

Steven looking at his one and only love.

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