#oscar issac fanfiction
Text
cocktails
gif from @pirateherokillian
pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader
summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend
cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read
wc: 5.1k
a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3
mk masterlist | main masterlist
----
You don’t drink.
At least not in front of Jake.
Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend.
Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.
What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer.
Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks.
He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend.
It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.
He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?
Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable.
You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?
Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend.
“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes.
You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her.
“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.
“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus.
“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”
“But you’re his best friend, right?”
“Yes, but –”
“What’s his type?”
His type?
God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?
You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat.
“I don’t know.” You mumble.
—
You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours.
Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.
But with you, he’s mostly hands-off.
It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter.
He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes.
And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you.
He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed.
You aren’t.
Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene.
You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.
“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you.
He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most.
It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant.
You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it.
“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.
You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.”
He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus.
You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in.
Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know.
He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.”
And the nickname stuck.
You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him.
He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”
Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”
He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.
Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.
Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.
You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”
“Sure, baby.”
Baby.
That’s new.
Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.
He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours.
You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.
He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips.
“J-Jake…”
“Sweetheart, stop.”
“But –”
“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.
You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.
“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard.
“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.
His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.”
You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.
“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.
His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…”
With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?”
“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.
You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.
Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you.
“That good, baby?”
You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you.
All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.
You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.
“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.
“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs.
“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”
“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close.
Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out.
Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.
“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him.
He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap.
You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.
You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck.
“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness.
You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.
His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are.
“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.
Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base.
“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip.
You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.
As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.
"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan.
“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back.
“But…I want you to.”
“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.”
Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.”
Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately.
“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”
You bite your lip, “A little bit.”
“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.
“Ok.”
“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.
He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most. A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.
“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?”
You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up.
“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses.
You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms.
You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders.
“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words.
His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement.
You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face.
“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.
Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to.
You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.
“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.
You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you.
“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place.
“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words.
What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.
“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there.
“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him.
“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars.
Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”
“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”
You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.
“Fucking take it, sweetheart.”
“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you.
His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth.
You both stay in this position for a little longer.
You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt.
“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”
His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation.
“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.
“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?”
Your eyes widen. His girl?
“Your girl?”
“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.
#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley smut#moon knight#cw: dubcon#cw: dub-con#oscar issac fanfiction
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Coming soon…
#the plug#librarian at your service#let’s chat#sip tea#talk fanfiction#talk oscar isaac fanfiction#oscar isaac x black!reader#oscar issac fanfiction
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Links to various posts--
About me
🤗 Requests are open!! 🤗 Rules for them.
Lil life update. Reason I will start being a little mia from writing and reading.
My bookmark blog ( the link is to the masterpost of for it talking about what it is, etc. )
A beautiful story by the amazing @alwayslurkinginthebackground
My writing -
My blog is an 18+ only, so shoooo anyone under 18, please and thank you!! 💞
As I write more I will get a master post made for each character.. But for now I will put the emojis next to each ones.
🔥🔥 = smut
💞🤗 = 100% fluffiness
Pedro Pascal ~
Frankie Morales 💞🤗 with some chapters that are 🔥🔥. Minors do not interact please!! 🔞
Oberyn Martell 💞🤗
Joel Miller
Max Phillips
AU with multiple Pedro boys 💞🤗 so far.
Din Djarin
Oscar Issac ~
Santiago Garcia 💞🤗
Marc Spector
#My masterlist#Pedro Pascal#Oscar Issac#Frankie Morales#Oberyn Martell#Max Philips#Santiago Garcia#pedro pascal fanfiction#Oscar Issac fanfiction#Marc Spector
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A foolish endeavor
Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader
Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?
Word count; 2.8k
Reader description; Female/GN
TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.
Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}
Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.
Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.
Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.
The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.
“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.
Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.
Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.
Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.
You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.
Miguel O’Hara.
Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.
It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.
You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.
Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.
You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.
The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.
His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.
You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.
Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.
For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.
By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.
When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.
You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.
Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.
You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.
Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”
“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.
“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.
No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”
You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?
That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.
You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.
Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.
You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”
Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.
“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.
You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.
Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”
You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.
Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”
You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.
The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.
Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.
When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.
Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.
Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.
Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.
It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.
Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.
Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.
You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building
Fuck it.
If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.
You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.
“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.
How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?
God, being on the run was stressful.
Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.
When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.
Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.
The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.
You see it.
Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!
“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.
Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.
At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.
“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.
You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.
He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.
You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.
You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.
“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.
Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.
The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.
Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.
His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”
Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”
————————
Translations
- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?
- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?
- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.
- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.
- mi alma/ my soul
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara#yandere spiderman#yandere miguel o’hara#yandere spiderverse#spiderman into the spiderverse#spiderman x reader#spiderman atsv#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader#miguel o’hara x you#oscar issac characters#yandere oscar issac#spiderman#spiderman 2099#oscar issac x reader#oscar issac hernandez estrada#yandere fanfiction#dark writing
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Worth The Wait | Steven Grant
(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.
Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.
A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!
"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−
Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.
He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.
Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.
You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.
"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"
You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.
Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.
But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.
He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.
"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.
You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.
"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.
"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.
"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.
"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.
"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"
"Yup."
Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.
You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.
"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.
You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.
When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.
He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.
"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.
"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.
Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."
Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.
"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.
"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.
"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.
Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."
You ignored his call for your attention.
"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.
"Yes I am−"
"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"
You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.
"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."
You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"
Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.
You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.
Steven's face fell. "What?"
"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."
Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.
You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.
Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.
Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.
"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.
"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.
A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.
Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.
It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.
And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;
Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.
Steven.
Steven.
Steven.
"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.
Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.
But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.
After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.
"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."
You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?
You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.
He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."
You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.
"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.
"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.
A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.
"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.
"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.
After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"
"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."
You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.
"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.
"Did you mean it?"
Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.
You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.
Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.
You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.
"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"
Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"
Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."
Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.
You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"
"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.
You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.
Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.
Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.
Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.
You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.
Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.
You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."
Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.
Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.
Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.
"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.
Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.
You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.
Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.
You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...
Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.
"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.
Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.
Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.
You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.
Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.
You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.
Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.
You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.
"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.
"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"
Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.
Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.
But for now, you really wanted to taste him.
Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.
"Are you sure you want to-"
"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"
Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.
"Please, please do," his response came soon after.
You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.
Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.
"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."
You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.
Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.
After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.
"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.
You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."
Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.
You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"
Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.
"What is it, Steven?"
The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."
You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.
"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.
Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."
You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.
"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.
You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.
Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."
You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.
Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.
"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.
Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.
And so, he eagerly dived into your core.
Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.
The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.
The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.
Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.
"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.
Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.
"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...
"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.
He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.
Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.
"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.
Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.
It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.
Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.
Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.
Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern
You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."
Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.
But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."
Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."
"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."
Steven couldn't even formulate a response.
"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.
Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.
He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."
You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.
Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.
You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.
"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.
He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.
Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.
You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."
Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.
You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.
"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.
"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.
Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.
"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.
Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.
His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.
Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."
"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.
"What?"
"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.
Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.
"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.
Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.
"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.
Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.
You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.
Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.
Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.
"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.
You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.
You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."
He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.
But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.
You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.
His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.
"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.
"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.
"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.
You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."
"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.
"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.
Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.
You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"
"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.
So I really do hope you enjoyed it.
(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)
#steven grant smut#moon knight smut#smut#fluff#marvel#imagine#oneshot#steven grant#moon boys#moon knight x reader#steven grant x you#steven grant x reader#moon knight fic#moon knight#oscar issac smut#oscar isaac#oscar isaac x reader#marvel fanfiction#fanfiction
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Fall
Pairing:F! reader x Miguel O'Hara
Warnings: Minor spoilers to the movie
A/n- ahh I love this hope you enjoy (I tried my best lol) leave some requests:P
Masterlist|Requests
Y/n and Miguel both worked as scientists creating a watch that could travel across the multiverse. One fateful day Y/n decided to work on the watch disregarding Miguel's wishes to stop.
later that day Miguel saw you being sucked into a multiversal hole. He tried using his webs to save you but it broke. Miguel bashed his fists on the table he lost y/n. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a year. He couldn't locate you at all.
Soon the watch was done but he knows he wouldn't be able to find you. Then a rip in the multiverse happened and everything pinned pointed to Miles Morales from Earth 1610.
With a loud bash Y/n landed on Earth 1610 confused but fascinated by what her surroundings. It was Alchemax laboratory, then y/n sees a Spider-Man it Miles Morales you tried to hide but he saw you.
He walked behind her "Who are you, lady", Confused y/n explained where she came from and told him about the malfunction. He began to ask a gazillion amount of questions about your earth.
He showed her the ropes around his world and she managed to accustom to it. Soon Y/n became Aunt to Miles, a loving and supportive figure who provided the guidance he had longed for. She embraced her role wholeheartedly, always ready to lend an ear or offer words of encouragement.
Then Gwen came to visit Miles and talked about being in an elite society filled with spider people. Later that night Miles was completely gone. 2 days later he met you in the rooftop of his apartment completely Panicking talking about Miguel.
Her heart dropped Was it actually talking about her Miguel. You placed your hands on Miles shoulders "His last name was O'Hara?" "Something like that".
Then you hear the sound of a portal opening and it was your Miguel and he tackled miles. She rushed to break them up but Miguel webbed you instead.
Filled with rage Miguel was going in for a punch until you yelled his name. Miguel's eyes widened in disbelief as he recognized y/n .
He retracted his webbing "Miguel," Tears welled up in Miguel's eyes as he fell to his knees before her. "Y/n, I am so sorry". Y/n reached out a hand and gently lifted Miguel to his feet. " Its ok my love" Miguel leaned in and gently pressed his lips against hers.
"I missed you more than you know Preciosa."
"Try not to kill miles next ok?"
"I won't"
#miguel o hara#Miguel x reader#into the spider verse#marvel#fanfic#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#Oscar issac x reader#Spider-Man#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 fanfiction#2099 x reader#miguel ohara
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Sneak Peak Part V - Web of Eternal Dawn
“Drop the child, Miguel.” the figure warns.
With an unimpressed raise of his brow, Miguel retorts, “Go home, Miles.”
Gabriel, now more settled, looks up at Miguel with adoring eyes, already halfway back to sleep. But Miles’ persistent voice booms through the little room. "Miguel, step the fuck back from the baby, and let's settle this outside. NOW."
"Kid, this isn't a fight you wanna fight," Miguel warns, gently lowering the now sleeping Gabriel back into his crib.
But just as the situation seems to have reached a tense standoff, the door bursts open, revealing you, fully clad in your spider-suit, ready to fight, fury painted on every feature. Flashbacks of the past, filled with anger, pain, and fear, cloud your vision upon seeing Miguel bending over your son.
"Sunny, I can explain—" Miguel starts, but your reaction is swift. With a well-aimed web, you pin him to the nearby wall, rendering him immobile. Miles, clearly taken aback by your rapid response, stammers, “He... uh... was trying to... take Gabriel again. I saw it?”
Miguel's eyes, though pinned, glitter dangerously. “Cut the crap, kid.”
You had heard enough, and you fired webs at his mouth, silencing him. Standing tall, you demand, “What the hell is going on?”
Your heart hammers against your ribcage, an overpowering nausea threatening to bring you to your knees. Not again, you beg internally, this can't be happening again. The biting sensation of deja vu feels like a punch to the gut.
As if reading your panic, Miles lifts his hands in a placating gesture, but your focus narrows solely on your sleeping baby, peacefully oblivious to the tension in the room. Swiftly, you cross the distance to his crib, gently scooping him up, trying your hardest not to stir him. Every instinct screams at you to get away, to protect your child from the unpredictable scene.
You barely register Miles' words of apology or his attempt to follow, reacting instinctively by sending a web in his direction, narrowly missing him and instead encasing Miguel against the wall. With him momentarily restrained, you leave the room.
Miguel, however, almost effortlessly shrugs off the sticky restraints, ripping the webbing from his face. He's pissed, furious even, seething at the situation. Anger boils at the goddamn circumstances, but above all, his ire is directed at this noisy kid. Damn, Miles, can't he just go bother someone else? This isn't his fucking business. It's his mess to fix, his responsibility, and he needs to make things right. Why does Miles have to complicate things even more?
With a tension thick enough to cut, Miguel turns to Miles, "What do you want, kid?"
Miles, glares defiantly, his voice dripping with loathing. "You, gone. Either in some forsaken universe or dead."
Miguel sighs, running a hand down his face, his weariness evident. "Fine, do whatever you wish. Kill me, banish me, torture me. Whatever your little heart desires. Let me first make sure that they are safe. I won't fight you, Miles.”
Miles pauses, disbelief flashing across his face. "You serious?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Miguel retorts, his gaze piercing.
Miles takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're a monster, Miguel. Maybe not a murderer, but still a monster."
"I know what I am." Miguel admits, his voice breaking ever so slightly and without looking back leaving Miles speechless.
Miguel hesitated at the window, on the precipice of leaving. But something - be it fate, spider-sense, or sheer reckless longing - pulled him back. He silently treaded through the apartment, drawn to a soft melodic voice.
There, in the dim room, you stood. Without your mask, vulnerability framed your features, eyes closed, a cascade of hair down your shoulder.
You swayed gently, singing a lullaby, with little Gabriel secure in your embrace, his breathing even and deep. This sight, so full of love and tenderness, tore through Miguel. It was a clear representation of everything he yearned for, of the life that slipped through his fingers, so vivid he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.
His heart ached, thinking of the life they could've shared, of waking up to this exact scene every day, of being a part of this little family. The regret was suffocating him in its weight.
You sensed him before you heard him, before you smelled his perfume, warm and woody with a hint of something spicy. He smelled like the shower gel he uses when you both took long showers, the walks you used to take in the woods on Earth 99, discussing plans for the HQ, but you just enjoyed holding his hand. He also smelled like your pillows after he disappeared in the morning, a scent tinged with abandonment. He smelled like a thousand things you couldn’t place, but foremost, he smelled like one thing, and you just hated that thought. Home.
You finally broke the silence, your voice soft and wearied. "What are you doing here, Miguel?"
He swallowed, voice raw. "I needed to see if you were okay."
A sad smile played on your lips. "You're too late for that."
Ahhhh, you guys are amazing! Please share your thoughts, and don't hesitate to suggest how you'd like the story to end – I might just include it! Let's turn this into a group project. I was close to giving up on the story, feeling not good enough. I love writing and creating, but anxiety often gets the best of me. Your kind messages, (which yes, I read and cherish every single one) have helped immensely. I'm so grateful and want to return all the positivity back to you. Wish I could hug each of you! ☀️
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Blueberry Pancakes
Moon knight system x f!reader
Summary- You’re frustrated with Jake not being apart of your relationship so you take matters into your own hands.
CW-NSFW, 18+ MDNI, Depictions of DID, Smut, mentions of sex, Unprotected piv,fingering,rough sex,slight dom Jake, piv cream pie,cum,light angst, fluff.
Please let me know in the comments if I missed any warnings.
WC-3k
Not beta-read
———————————————————
You slowly blink open your eyes taking in the soft morning light of the flat you share with your boyfriend-boyfriends. You’ve been spoiled by Marc and Steven for a year now and you couldn’t be happier. The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes wafts amongst the flat and you can’t help the bittersweet feeling that consumes you.
Jake makes you blueberry pancakes.
Despite doing all the things a loving, caring boyfriend does- he refuses to front. A simple hi and bye is the most you’ve gotten out of him. It shouldn’t bother you really, you have two wonderful men that kiss the ground you walk on. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t think he deserves to be a part of this the way Marc and Steven are.
You're pulled from your thoughts as the door to the bathroom opens and you're graced with the sight of Marc stalking towards you only wrapped in a towel. His broad shoulders and chest are still dripping with water from the shower. He leans down and places a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“Mornin’ sweetheart.”
You smile up at him feeling slightly guilty. You secretly hope one of these mornings it’s Jake emerging from the bathroom still glistening from the shower, he climbs into bed and fucks you like his life depends on it and you both enjoy those sweet blueberry pancakes together.
“Prince Charming made you pancakes again.” He says sarcastically as he makes his way to the closet to get dressed.
It seems to be a sore subject for Marc as you think back to the first time he made them. Marc excused himself from the table as you moaned into every bite. You didn’t miss the way he glared into his reflection in the toaster while he stood in the kitchen waiting for you to finish.
“You know I love you and you make the best omelet.” You say as you make your way out of bed and wrap him in a tight hug from behind.
“Yes but you don’t sound like we’re fucking when you eat my omelet.”
You nip at his back and smack his ass on your way out of the bedroom. As much as he calls you a brat he definitely has his moments.
You make your way to the kitchen to enjoy your breakfast before you have to head to work. As you sit down to take your first bite you feel Marc’s eyes on you. You look up from your plate and see him with arms crossed and a smirk on his gorgeous face. You cock your head to the side and take a slow bite stifling a moan, because now is not the time.
“Are you going to watch me eat the whole thing?” You say playfully as you watch him make his way to the coffee maker that Jake got ready for Marc-because you prefer tea.
He doesn’t respond right away so you think this is as good a time as any to bring up what’s been bothering you.
“Why won’t he spend time with me?”
Marc groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I’ve already told you, please just leave it alone.”
“Is he listening now?”
“No sweetheart.” Yes cariño
“Well if you could tell him, I really really love pancakes.”
“Sure thing.” Marc says with slight annoyance.
****
You turn the key to enter your flat and as you open the door you're greeted with the sight of your boyfriend on the couch pecking at you over the bridge of his reading glasses.
“Hey love.” Steven smiles sweetly at you as he sets his book on the coffee table. “How was your day?” He always directed his full attention at you, as if you were the moon and the stars.
“It was fine.” You say rather unconvincing.
“Oh just fine,that won’t do.” He pats the seat next to him on the couch. “Come have a seat, let's talk.”
You make your way over to the couch and sit down and he grabs your legs placing them in his lap as you lean your back on the opposite arm rest. He takes your heels off one by one and begins rubbing your aching feet.
“I know you had pancakes this morning so the day started off better than fine.” He says jokingly with a smirk on his face.
“Well…that’s just it.” You say slightly embarrassed about what you're about to ask the sweet man rubbing your feet as he does most nights after a long day at work. “Could you help me with something?”
“Depends on what it is but anything for you love.”
“Could you…help me spend some time with Jake?” You say almost at a whisper.
He ceases rubbing your feet and looks at you with those deep brown pleading eyes. “You know how he is…but if it’s important to you I’ll try.”
You sit up enthusiastically and curl into Stevens' side wrapping your arms around his waist in a gripping hug.
“Okay, what does he like to eat?Does he have any favorite hobbies?What kind of shows does he watch? What’s his favorite color?…you realize your rambling like Steven does when he’s giving a tour at the museum, not even giving the poor man a chance to answer.
“Slow down love, one thing at a time.” He furrows his brow deep in thought. “Oh bollocks, I’m afraid I’m no help. I don’t know what he likes to eat, I’m pretty sure his favorite hobby is murder, he barely watches television and…well.” He chuckles to himself.
“What’s so funny.” You say slightly defeated
“Oh it’s nothing, it's just that I’m pretty sure his favorite color is red since he’s practically always covered in it.”
Steven looks at his reflection in the t.v. and suddenly drops his smile. “Right…well that’s about all I can help you with sorry love.” He stammers out quickly.
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” He says as he hangs his head. Your sweet Steven has no idea how helpful he truly is.
You slide your hand to his cheek and tilt his head down at you placing a soft kiss on his lips. You sit up to straddle his lap and you can feel him getting hard for you already. As you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to whisper in his ear, you can tell his breath is ragged.
“I’d like to show you how helpful you are, if you’ll let me?” You bite down on his earlobe and hear his breath catch in his throat.
“I’d like that very much love.”
****
It’s Friday night, it’s been three days since Steven helped you-and you helped Steven. You’ve been planning and hoping that what you have in store will draw Jake out of hiding. If not you’ll just have to live with his silent affections.
Steven is relaxing on the couch as you stand in front of your full length mirror putting on the final touches to your look. It didn’t take much convincing to have him spend the night with you if things don’t go according to plan.
You got your hair done that morning, something you rarely treat yourself too. As you stare at yourself in the mirror you can’t help but feel slightly turned on- this has to work.
You adjust the straps on your silk red dress and smooth your hands down the front. You slide in your strappy red heels that you hope you won’t have to walk very far tonight. You lean into the mirror to apply your crimson red lipstick to match the red you applied to your nails earlier that day.
As you grab your purse and make your way towards the door you can feel Stevens' eyes on you. You don’t dare glance over at him suddenly feeling like a predator's prey.
“Bye love, I’m going out with some friends, don't wait up for me.”
You reach for the door but an unfamiliar voice stops you in your tracks.
“Bebita I don’t think your boyfriends would be too happy about this.” You turn around to see Jake with his eyes narrowed as if he’s studying your movements.
“My boyfriends don’t care if I go out.” Your voice cracks a little and you're suddenly aware of how dry your throat is.
“I didn’t mean if you go out cariño.” He stands from the couch and you suddenly feel very small. “I mean dressed like this.” He gestures his fingers up and down your body.
“Maaarrrc…Steeeeven?” You mockingly call about the flat. “I guess they aren’t here so I’ll be going.”
You take one last look at yourself in the mirror next to the door feigning confidence.
“You’ll be staying.” He says in a commanding tone that makes your pussy clench in anticipation.
You grab the door handle and look over your shoulder with the most sultry look you can muster (that you absolutely have not been practicing in the mirror). “Make me.”
He crosses the distance from the couch to you in two steps and pins you against the door with his chest pressed to your back. You can tell you’ve had an affect on him by the way his hard bulge is pressed against your ass. He grips both your wrists with one of his large calloused hands. He leans in close to your ear and breathes in deep.
“New perfume?” He says in a low husky tone.
He licks a stripe up your neck and gently bites down on your earlobe. Drawing a small whimper out of you.
“Not so talkative now are we hermosa? His chuckles reverberate through your body as he slowly draws his fingers up your thigh. He can feel how wet you are through your panties and a low growl from him sends shivers down your spine.
“This wet for me?” A breathy “ yes” is all you can manage as he drags his fingers through your slit at an agonizing slow pace. He starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you can feel that tell tale sign that you're close to your climax as you clench down on nothing. He knows you're close and he wants to draw this out- you drew him out after all. He ceases his movements and all you can do is whimper.
“Shh it’s ok hermosa I’m going to take care of you.” You try to calm your breathing but he still has you pressed against the door with both hands behind your back.
“Answer my questions and I’ll take care of you.” He says into your ear as his breathing picks up. You give him a quick nod and his grip tightness on your wrist. “Words sweetheart.”
“Yes sir.” He nips at your shoulder with that last word. He resumes his movements dragging his fingers through your slit. “Did you buy this dress for me?”
“Yes.” You answer as he dips two fingers into your soft channel. If not for his grip on your wrists you’d be in a puddle on the floor. “What about these panties, did you buy them for me?” He’s slowly fucking you with his fingers and all you can hear in the flat is your breathy moans.
“Yes.” You say a little louder this time and he presses his fingers on those bundle of nerves inside and you think you might lose your mind.He brings his thumb to your clit as he steadily works you open. He places his knee between your thighs and slowly lifts you up. “Come for me hermosa.” You drop your head back on his shoulder and note down on your lip as you come with a silent cry.
As you come down from your high you realize you’ve never had an orgasm so intense without seeing your boyfriend's face. He slowly puts you down and draws his fingers away and you hiss at the loss.
“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” He says still with his back pressed to you, his obvious erection putting a strain on Stevens sweatpants.
“I want you to fuck me.” You say in almost a whine not even recognizing your own voice. He spins you around and you can see the hunger in his deep brown eyes, pupils blown wide. He looks very different from Marc and Steven, yet so similar. It takes your breath away how he looks at you like you're his world and also his victim in the same moment.
“I’m sorry about your dress.” He says sarcastically as you look down confused seeing nothing wrong with it. Before you can ask why he takes both hands and rips it down the front as if it was made of paper. “I’m sorry about your panties too.” You close your eyes and prepare yourself for what’s next as you feel a light tug on your hips and the sound of your new red lace panties ripping.
He takes in your form as you're now left in your sheer red bra and strappy heels. One of his hands comes to the back of your head and he pulls you into a bruising kiss, he kisses you like he’s been starving for you. Like if you pull away you’ll disappear. Your hands come to his arms tracing the familiar muscles you’ve come to know and love and this just feels right.
His thick bulge is pressed against your abdomen, as he grinds his hips into you pressing you further into the door. Precum now staining Stevens sweatpants (which you’ll have to hear about later). You suddenly feel very exposed and you slowly push him off you. As you both catch your breath he looks as though he’s done something wrong and your heart aches because you just want the man to be as exposed as you are.
“Clothes off.” Is all you can manage-real articulate.
Jake strips in two seconds flat and your thanking whatever Egyptian god that he didn’t rip Stevens clothes.
You’ve seen this body many times but as he stands before you with his thick cock, tip red and aching steadily leaking precum you feel as if it’s the first time. He backs you against the door again and grabs your face with both hands as he stares into your eyes.
“Tell me again.” He says in a pleading tone.
“I want you to fuck me Jake.”
You yelp in surprise as he grabs your waist and hoists you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He takes his hand and wraps it around his thick cock slowly coating it with your slick just teasing your entrance. You whimper at the feeling as he pushes in and you both moan in unison at the stretch. You drop your head to his shoulder and he’s not moving but you desperately want him too.
You dig your heels into his ass and he groans as his grip tightens on your waist.
“Just give me a moment cariño.” And you almost don’t recognize his voice. You squeeze your core around his throbbing cock and that’s all the moment he needs before he’s thrusting into you at a bruising pace.
“Oh. Fuck. Jake..” your words are punctuated with each thrust as he fucks too against the door.
“Jesus Christ, your pussy is so tight.” He’s quickly falling apart as he slams you down on his cock over and over. “I can’t believe I waited this long to do this.” Your moans in his ear as you hold on for dear life are going to send him over the edge. But not before you. His movements slow and you can feel his thick cock drag through your walls as you drop your head to the crook of his neck.
“Tell me what you want cariño.” He turns his head to see his reflection in the mirror next to the door.
“Fuck me harder Jake please.” You’re practically crying at the sensation as if it’s your first time. He smirks at his reflection and your pleas are all he needs.
“I love when you beg hermosa.” He holds you up with one arm and brings his thumb to your clit as he resumes his pace, roughly fucking you against the door. He can feel your pussy gripping his cock as your slick coats both your thighs.
“Fuck. Me. Right. There.” You're screaming now and will surely get a noise complaint, but you can’t care at this moment you’ve wanted for so long. Your vision goes white as you reach your climax and you're digging your nails into his back as you come undone. That’s all it takes for him before he comes with a choked sound as he’s shooting hot ropes of cum into your quivering channel. He groans in your ear as he slowly rocks his hips up pinning you to the door.
You don’t know how long you stay like that trying to catch your breath as you both come down from your high. It feels like you're floating and you realize he hasn’t put you down but he’s carrying towards the bed. He gently lays you down and you both wince as he pulls out of you. He places a soft kiss on your sweat soaked forehead. He takes off your heels and brings you one of Stevens shirts to sleep in.
“I’ll be right back cariño.” Your smiling to yourself as you watch him walk towards the bathroom.
Sleep is starting to claim you as he makes his way back to you with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your thighs and your swollen folds. He tosses the towel in the direction of the hamper not caring if he makes it. He lays down beside you and pulls your back into his chest wrapping you in a deep hug.
“Shouldn’t you call your friends so they aren’t worried?” He mumbles into your hair.
“Hmm?” Your blissed out brain can’t grasp what he’s talking about. He chuckles lowly to himself.
He’s not sure if you're asleep when he whispers to himself.
“I really really love pancakes too.”
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated
#moon knight#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockely x reader#moon knight fic#moon knight x reader#moonknight smut#jake lockely smut#oscar issac characters#moon knight fanfiction#jake lockely x you#steven grant x fem!reader#marc spector x fem!reader
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◦ 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 ◦
𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drug use (marijuana), sharing a joint, p in v, unprotected sex, teasing, lots of flirting, pet names, dry humping, mentions of readers ex boyfriend, sloppy make outs, slighty rough Miguel, childish gambiano realness, jealous Miguel, language, praising kink, size kink, breeding kink??
Both you and Miguel were laid on his bed, blunt between his lips as he took a puff of the funky smelling joint.
You met each other your first year in college and now being in your 3rd, you both grew into best friends. It wasn't often the both of you got high but today was a day of celebration.
The both of you passed your finals.
"You wanna play somethin’ different" Miguel calmly asked while passing you the joint. You nodded and reached your hand out to take it out of his hands but he shook his head and motioned for you to lean down and take a hit while he held it up for you.
You chuckled and softly inhaled the warm stingy cloud of the smoke traveling into your system. Miguel's eyes watched you with admiration as you smiled at him while softly coughing.
Moving off the bed, you walked over to his record player and shuffled through his records. You didn't even realize when Miguel sat up and laid on his elbows as he watched you humming to last song that played.
You settled with childish Gambino and inhaled the fresh air as you heard the opening of Me and Your Mama start to play.
You could hear Miguel chuckle behind you as you started swaying to the song.
I'm in love when we are smokin' you mouthed as you plotted down right besides him. "Mmh" he hummed as he turned to face you, both of you now mere inches away from each other as you laid on your sides.
He held out the joint to your lips, allowing you to take the last hit of the joint. His eyes lingering on the way your lips wrapped around the joint and pulled away sensually. He didn't know if it was the drugs in his system or if you were genuinely moving so slowly.
And you were, your body was in one of the most relaxed state it you moving like a cat and rubbing your face into the sheets. "You're so handsome" you muttered, not fully aware that you said it out loud.
"And you're beautiful" he hummed as he raised a finger up to your hair and ran it down to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, the warm feeling in your stomach growing as you began to feel the warmth he was seeming to vibrate.
You leaned into his chest instantly and were met with his arms pulling you in tight. "You're so warm mig" you moaned in relief "oh yeah?" He chuckled as he rested his chin above your head.
Your face was buried in his chest as both of you took in each others scents and warmth. You pulled back from his chest in a sigh and shifted your eyes up to him.
His eyes already trained on you as you glanced at his lips “can I kiss you?” You bravely whisper. You moaned as his lips crashed onto yours, the sudden feeling of the both of you kissing filling your senses.
You and Miguel were needly lapping at each others lips, no words needed as the messy, hot, kiss sunk the both of you deeper into each other as he tucked his hand behind your neck.
Miguel swore you taste like honey and he didn’t want to let go. He pressed you onto him softly as you wrapped a leg around his waist.
Miguel hummed as he held your hip in his hand and pushed himself onto his back, allowing you to sit on his lap and straddle him. “Please”
Miguel smiled as he held you down to his lips “mhm?” He smiled “what do you want sweetheart?” He cooed while grinding you onto his sweats. You knew he had no boxers on, you could feel the prominent curve and veins of his cock through his thin sweats.
The high was making you so overwhelmed by his touch, you felt like he was sinking into you as you began to grind onto him “ah ah, tell me what you want”
You whined as Miguel pinned your body still “tell me” his voice made you shiver as he began to kiss all over your face “you, please mig anything you want I- fuck!” You gasped as he manhandled you onto your back.
“Anything I want? What do you mean by that” he smiled “last I knew you said no one here was fuckble” he teased while he dragged his lips down your neck “am I fuckable now? You want your best friend to make you feel good?”
You could roll your eyes at his tone but instead, you moaned. You’ve always had a crush on Miguel and what was playing out was definitely not something you thought he reciprocated.
“I’ve always been jealous of that one guy you dated, what’s his name?” Miguel sighed “I don’t care about him”
“I know you don’t chula, it’s just I hated seeing him touch you. Seeing him kiss you around campus, pissed me off” he pouted.
You pulled him into a kiss as you now got annoyed at the amount of talking about your ex “I don’t care, I want you, I’ve always have” you muttered. And with that, Miguel let out a moan of satisfaction.
Both of you were pulling at each others clothes, you eagerly pulled his shirt off and salivated at the sight. His toned chest was on full display and you couldn’t help but run your hands down his body and smile.
Miguel hastily unbuttoned your jeans and the moment he saw your panties you swore he whimpered. His lip was tucked between his teeth as he ran his hands up your plump thighs “fuck”
You were squirming under his touch, so overwhelmed by his soft pawing and kneading that you let out a whine as he began to rock onto your clothed cunt “you feel so good” Miguel hissed as he held you by your waist.
Both his hands holding you tight as he took in how amazing you felt. The high was hitting him just as much as you, his body was tingling and the need to fuck you was getting worse.
His fingers curled your panties and in one eager tug, they were on the ground. Miguel was drooling at the sight of your puffy cunt covered in slick “I’ve been working her up too much haven’t I?, my poor baby” he chuckled as your hips began moving on their own.
“Don’t worry” he hummed, two of his fingers running down your cunt “I’ll take good care of you, right chula?” He smiled up at you. You nodded frantically as you rocked onto his thick fingers. “Use your words”
“Yes Miguel yes! I know you will, you’ll fuck me so good, so good please” you were at the point of desperation as you eyes caught a glimpse of his cock straining against his sweats. “Good girl” he whispered before pressing a kiss onto your collar bone.
You watched impatiently as he tugged off his sweats and you almost let out a curse at the sight of his cock. You gawked at his thick cock, questioning how much would fit inside you.
And almost as if he knew what you were thinking Miguel chuckled “don’t worry bunny, I didn’t work you up for nothing. Need to make sure you’ll take me real nice and easy”
His lips latched onto yours as he purposely pressed himself between your folds. Miguel was hiding how much this was driving him crazy, you were so focused on his body in front of you that you didn’t even notice how hard he was gripping the sheets.
He’d been fucking himself to the thought of you for so long that finally getting to do this seemed like a dream.
He fisted his cock and ran it between your folds, seething at the way you coated him. His teeth biting so hard onto his lip he swore it would start to bleed.
“Oh my g-“ you gasped as he pushed inside you. Miguel held himself up with one hand as the other pulled you closer “oh fuc- feel so damn good” he whimpered.
His hands cupped the back of your thighs and pinned them back as he began to pick up his pace. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him stuff you full, the painfully delicious stretch he was giving you was making you dizzy.
It didn’t help that both of you felt like all your senses were heightened as the high hit its peek. You could feel all of him, everywhere at once it was so overwhelming.
You focused on the way his stomach rolled with his thrusts and how loud was moans were getting. Then the sheer pleasure of his cock ramming deep into you had you muttering incoherent nonsense.
Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt you clench around him, your gushy velvet walls squeezing him tightly “god bunny, making me f- ah- crazy” he seethed.
You couldn’t believe you were getting the best fucking of your life from your best friend, you couldn’t believe how good he felt pounding into you like a madman. Miguel’s hips slammed into yours in bliss, his hands holding you by the waist as he sloppily thrusted into you.
“Mi- fuckkk mig-“ you whined, back arched off the beds as he began to slowly but firmly slam into you. You could feel him curve up into your g-spot as he pushed inside. Your nails scratch down his arms as he chuckled at your reaction“Que bebita? Te gusta?”
You nodded dumbly and hummed at his tone “s- soo good mi- you feel so f- oh-“ you muttered. Miguel felt himself twitch at the sound of your voice go weak, your pretty fucked out tone going on and on about how good his dick felt inside you.
“Yeah chula? Yo se que te gusta, siempre sabía” he cooed. You couldn’t comprehend what he was saying from the amount of pleasure coursing through you. If you did, you would’ve gotten embarrassed.
He always knew you wanted this
“Im- imma- Miguel o- fu” you cried as his tip hit the perfect spot deep inside you, his thick cock continuously ramming into you as your cum began to gush out if you.
Miguel let out a gruntled moan as you came around his cock, your cunt fluttering and getting even more sticky and full as he pumped his loads into you. You were shaking in his arms as your body let out all the built up frustration and stress.
You opened your eyes to see Miguel’s sweaty body twitching as he finally filled you to the brim with his loads. “Oh- oh fuck ah shit! Mha-“ he whined as you continued to clenched around him.
Miguel watched as his cum seeped out and onto his sheets, moaning as he saw himself leaking out of your tight pussy. A chuckle leaving him as he noticed how much he had came “think I might’ve came the most I ever have inside you bunny”
Miguel pulled out with a shiver as he laid beside you, his sweaty body pulling you in as he gave you a sloppy kiss. “Good” You hummed into Miguel as he hugged you onto his chest tightly, palm cupping your cheek as he pecked at your lips.
Both of you knew this was just the beginning.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o hara#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara fanfiction#smut#oscar issac characters
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perfect little toy
a/n: I cannot tell you how quickly this came out of me after I watched the movie... like bro, I felt like barry allen with the way my fingers flew over those keys. I'm just crazy about the fantasy of being his personal stress toy grrrrr
I wrote a part two for this because I just couldn't get the fantasy out of my head.
warnings: Miguel O'Hara x reader, smut, kissing, foreplay, oral, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, impact play, his fangs and claws, biting, lowkey marking, being paralysed from his bite (but kinda mild I guess on the scale of how it could be)
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
Feeling yourself succumb to the dizzying sensation of lips attacking the rabid pulse on the curve of your neck, your eyes fluttered to the back of your skull as your weak protest came out more as a needy whine, ”I thought you said last time was the last time,” feeling like the wall might break behind you from how fiercely the burly man clutching you pressed your spine against it. Thighs trembling, locked around his hips, his grip on them suddenly shifted as he, completely ignoring your squeak, unceremoniously hoisted you further up, tossing you far enough up to be caught in his arms, “Miguel!”
With your legs flopping over his broad shoulders, your hands quickly shot down for support, not because you feared he would drop you, but purely out of reflex. Cradling you in his arms, he nipped up your inner thigh, inhaling deeply as he neared your throbbing centre. Feeling his muscles flex beneath you, his fingers dug into your goosebump-ridden skin, his sharp talons just shyly poking out and tearing holes in your dress.
Growling against your soft flesh, he suddenly nipped you in a way contrary to any of his other love bites.
Letting out a sharp yelp, you exclaimed, “did you just bite me?” the stinging pain suddenly became less significant of a problem as you felt your body begin to lock up, paralysis spreading from the bite and like waves slowly seeping out into your muscles.
“Relax, princesa,” his deep voice rumbled as your body slackened in his grasp, your lower half seemingly more affected by the toxin than your upper, “it’ll wear off,” he crept a claw under your dress and tore off your drenched panties, “just let me have this,” his head disappeared under the billowing fabric, one of his limps easily taking over all of your weight so that the other could arc down upon your bottom, landing electric smacks upon the curve, “let me have you,” rumbling against your drooling petals, you choked out broken moans as he feverishly lapped up your juices before latching on to your buzzing pearl, “let me use you like the perfect little toy I know you are.”
© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara fic#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara fanfiction#oscar issac smut#miguel o’hara x reader#spiderman smut#spider man smut#marvel smut#spiderman x reader#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099 x reader#spider man 2099 smut
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With You (part 1)
next part || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist
Hi, everyone! This is not my first fic, but it is my first MK fic! I have been on Tumblr for ages, but never actually posted a fic here. (I know this account is newer. My much older one is my more personal blog).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader. No references to reader’s gender. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.
Word Count: 2890
Warnings: Angst, drinking, alcoholism, ummm cursing? Some kissing and stuff? No actual smut. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.
Marc was a little quiet lately. Strangely quiet, even for him.
After finishing your shift at the hospital and stumbling home exhausted, you were eager to see your fiancé, maybe even talk to him to see what was going on.
After a brief eternity riding up in the old lift in your building, you finally turned the key in the deadbolt and let yourself into your shared flat. As usual, one of the boys had left on a small lamp in the entry way, its incandescent glow the only illumination in the flat except for the florescent light of Steven’s fish tank.
Depositing your belongings on the entry table and kicking off your shoes, you quietly made your way toward the bedroom. But as you passed the darkened kitchen you heard a whispered, “Shit,” followed by the sound of a glass bottle landing on the countertop.
Marc.
He was drinking. Even with only the moon’s glow through the kitchen window, you could make out his preferred brand of whiskey.
In the span of a heartbeat, you took in the sight before you. Marc was facing away from you, as if he had been staring out the window, perhaps cursing the moon. Sweatpants hung low on his hips as if he’d made little effort to tie the drawstring. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt and the muscles of his back expanded with a labored breath.
Broad shoulders sagged as his fingers gripped the counter’s edge, his head bowed in what was likely shame. His curls tumbled forward, and you were certain that his long fingers had raked through them relentlessly in your absence, to be able to pull them from Marc’s preferred style.
God, he was beautiful like this, in the moonlight. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, and you wondered how he was able to bring this reaction out in you after four years as a couple. Still...you were worried.
“Marc?” You softly called, giving him a moment to hear your voice and acknowledge you before you attempted to touch him. Despite your loving and very physical relationship, he didn’t like to be caught off guard by anything - most especially not by touch.
He sighed so softly you almost didn’t hear it.
“Marc--”
“I know,” he bit out, though his voice was soft, sounding insistent rather than angry.
You paused, confused. “What?”
His hand reached for the whiskey bottle, which he lifted and quickly set back down on the counter, shoving it away from him. The liquid sloshed but didn’t spill - he had already taken care of too much of it himself.
“I know,” he repeated, still refusing look at you, or even lift his head from its bowed position.
Fairly certain you knew what he meant, you clarified, “You mean you know you’re drinking?”
Huffing out a sigh, he pushed his fingers through his curls, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t want to face you like this. You had been through this - his drinking. It was bad at one point - drinking every night, passing out, getting into fights, but he worked hard and got sober. He worked so hard...
As far as you knew, this was his first drink in two years.
You were devastated on his behalf, but more than anything you wondered what could have caused him to pick up a bottle.
Finally, he turned his head to the side, granting you the view of his profile. “Yeah, I am. So let’s hear it.”
He was waiting for something from you. A lecture? Disbelief, anger, something.
Pausing to calm your racing thoughts, you tried to figure out how to keep from running to him, grabbing him, overwhelming him, smothering him with love and concern.
Impatient, he turned all the way around, leaning against the countertop to glare at you. You could barely see his face in the darkness, but you could imagine the grumpy glower he wore.
“Well?” He asked, sounding more defeated than annoyed.
Squeezing your fists together, you exhaled quietly. Whatever anger or disappointment he was expecting from you tonight, it just wasn’t there. All you felt was overwhelming compassion and deep concern. What had hurt your Marc so deeply? Who were you going to have to tear apart?
Easing toward him, you moved carefully, slowly, angling your body toward his side, ending up beside him. Placing one hand gently on his forearm, you felt it flex in nervous anticipation. He stopped breathing as your eyes flicked up to his.
“Are you hurt, Marc?” You softly inquired, not even daring to squeeze or rub his warm flesh.
Exhaling shakily, he quickly shook his head.
You rubbed your thumb across his arm, feather soft, that small point of contact searing your skin with yearning for him. “Is this okay, sweetheart?”
His chest rose with a pained breath. With a slight nod, his chin dropped down to his chest, unable to look at you anymore.
You dared to rub and down his arm then. Small strokes of your fingertips dancing on his flesh, soothing, not demanding. “Missed you today,” you said sweetly, momentarily ignoring what was clearly agitating him the most - what you would think of him breaking his two-year sobriety.
Truthfully, your concern was growing with every passing moment. But you knew Marc as well as you knew yourself. You could get nowhere with him if he didn’t feel safe. And was so safe with you. You would burn worlds down for this man you were about to marry.
“What are you doing?” he harshly whispered, recoiling only a fraction from your touch. “I almost finished the bottle.” A confession of sorts.
Gently giving his arm a final squeeze, you let go, after laying a soft kiss to his bare shoulder. Reaching for the bottle, you shocked the hell out of your fiancé by taking a swig, wincing as the strong liquid burned your throat.
“Damn,” you gasped, immediately taking another drink. “You didn’t save much for me.” Tipping the bottle again, you never got to your third swig before Marc ripped it from your grasp.
“What the hell are you doing? Don’t drink that shit.” He flung the bottle into the sink, where it crashed and broke. It definitely sounded more dramatic than it looked - he hadn’t tossed it very hard, but you still involuntarily flinched, which, of course, worried and upset Marc.
“Shit, baby...I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to...I didn’t mean to--”
“It’s okay, Marc, I’m okay,” you quickly assured him, moving fully into his personal space for the first time all evening. You decided to move and speak with confidence from here on out. He needed to know where you stood. Placing your palms soothingly on his broad, bare chest, you felt his thundering heart.
“Hey,” you whispered, gazing lovingly up into his frantic eyes. Repeating his name, you waited for him to look down at you, into your eyes, which he finally, reluctantly did.
“I’m sorry,” you softly soothed, reaching up to trace his jaw line with your fingertips. “I didn’t mean to upset you by having a drink.”
“Why?” he harshly whispered. “I don’t want you drinking that.”
You made a face, “Baby, you were drinking that.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” He jerked away from your touch. “So just say what you’re going to say. Just fucking say it.”
So he was waiting on a lecture. Or a fight maybe.
“Is there any more?” you asked as he began to pace the kitchen floor. He looked a bit like a caged animal - contained but alert.
He paused for a moment, almost snarling at you, but seeing your innocent, truly curious expression, he quickly decided that maybe you were really curious and not mocking him.
“Steven’s bookshelf,” he answered candidly. “The one by the closet - you know, the ones he never reads.”
You nodded slowly, pushing off the counter to walk that way. “Clever,” you replied. Marc was hot on your heels but said nothing else until you retrieved a second bottle of whiskey - same brand - and walked it back to the kitchen.
He assumed you would open the cap and pour it down the drain. He actually wanted you to. But all you did after twisting off the cap was take another long, burning swig.
Before he could begin to react, you asked, “Are you going to have anymore to drink tonight?”
Shaking his head in disbelief, he grabbed the bottle from your hand and finished what he thought you had started. The amber liquid tumbled from the bottle, splashing in the sink and filling the air with its stale tang.
“What is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be the one doing this?” He huffed, dropping the empty bottle to join the first, broken one.
“No, I absolutely should not be the one doing this, Marc,” you evenly responded. “I should not be pouring out the alcohol that you brought into our home. That is not my job.”
“Ah, there it is,” he snapped, his fists clenching as he leaned toward you, ready for a (verbal) fight. “Let’s hear it, then. Tell me how much I fucked up.”
“No.” Your voice was calm and you took a confident but small step backward. It was not a step of fear, but simply a way to diffuse the fight he was apparently expecting.
“Marc, you’re a grown man. I’m not going to scold you, or lecture you, or tell you what to do. And despite what you may have been expecting, I’m not going to fight with you. If you want to drink, you’re going to drink. There is nothing I can do or say to change that.”
He looked stricken. Were you giving up on him? Tears stung the corners of his eyes before he could stop them. He’d had a lot to drink and his head was starting to pound. If you weren’t even putting up a fight, he must have really screwed everything up.
“A-are you...are you going to leave?” He whispered, physically withdrawing, turning to brace himself on the countertop once more.
“No, baby,” you answered him evenly, confidently. “I will never leave you. Not unless you made it impossible for me to live here with you. But you wouldn’t do that. Ever.” Easing over to him, you gently laid your cheek against his bare back. “I’m your partner. Not your boss, or a god or a parent. We’re a team. If you’re hurt, I’m there with you. I’m here, Marc. I’m here.”
“But I fucked up,” he shook his head sadly, his voice breaking. “All that work, all that fucking work to stay sober and I...”
“Exactly,” you agreed, carefully sliding your arms around him from behind, watching for any sign of physical discomfort from him. “You made a choice tonight and you hate the choice you made. That’s all that matters. You’re the person that you answer to. What you say goes. If you want to do better for someone, it has to be you. Not me, not Steven. You. Nothing I do will ever change that. Nothing I ever say will keep someone from doing what they decide to do.”
You squeezed him gently. “So no fights from me. No lectures. But I’m not going to baby you either. If we’re going to drink, that’s the way it’s going to be. You and I can accept that reality or a different one. A reality with no drinking. That’s why I took the drink tonight. It’s just a drink. It’s not evil. It doesn’t have a motive. It’s just liquid in a bottle. It’s what you feel right before you drink -that’s what you have to ask yourself, Marc. What happened right then?”
His body seemed to crumple in on itself and he slowly sank down to the cool tile of the kitchen floor, his back pushing up against the cabinets as he shook his head sorrowfully.
“I can’t,” he gasped, tears trailing down his beautiful, moonlit cheeks. Shaking his head despondently, he turned his broken gaze to yours as you joined him on the floor. “I can’t...everything will change now, I just can’t.”
How could he do this to you...to Steven? He was trying so hard to hide everything he’d learned from Steven - that they were not alone in this body. That there was another. And Khonshu. Stupid, fucking Khonshu still had them enslaved. How could he ever tell the two of you? He had only known for two days and it was killing him inside.
“Come here, baby,” you soothed, reaching to pull him into your arms. Something had happened to set him off. You were certain of it now, more than before, and despite your calm demeanor, you were scared.
Your worries both eased and doubled when his body softened in your embrace and a British accent greeted your ears.
“Darling...what’s all this, then?” Steven asked you, nodding to his state of undress and your positions on the hard kitchen floor.
“Steven,” you breathed, pulling him in for a hug. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he sweetly replied, granting you a soft kiss. “You alright, love?”
Before you could answer, he shook his head slightly, “Bollocks, got a bit of a headache. Has Marc been drinking?”
The look on your face told him everything.
“Bloody hell,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Two years sober right down the drain.”
Honestly, the sobriety thing, although crushing for him, was not the highest priority right now. Something was wrong with Marc.
“Steven, let’s go to bed,” you decided, standing up and offering him your hands.
Several minutes later, you and your fiancé slid under the covers, freshly washed up and ready for bed.
“Steven,” you softly repeated his name, running your fingertips over his jaw line, the way you had done with Marc earlier. “I love you.”
“I quite love you too, darling,” he sweetly replied, kissing you softly. “Now tell me what’s the matter.”
“Do you...are you aware of anything going on with Marc?” you asked as Steven’s arms slid securely around you. “I think something’s wrong - like big picture wrong. We didn’t have a fight, like - I don’t think the problem is with us. Did something happen?”
Rubbing your back soothingly, Steven answered the best he could. “Not that I know of. Marc has honestly been a bit closed off with me lately. He is somewhat of a quiet bloke from time to time, but...yeah, I’m pretty certain he’s not been exactly an open book these last few days.”
“Okay,” you breathed, trying to think of what could have happened. “I’m sorry for putting you in the middle, my love. I try not to do that, but he was so upset tonight, and the drinking...”
“He..he didn’t upset you, darling? Or...hurt you? Did he?” His warm brown eyes darkened in concern.
“What, Steven, of course not,” you insisted, sitting up in bed. “You two would never hurt me, I know that.”
“Of course, love, but it’s just...” Steven hesitated, sitting up to join you. “Marc isn’t always at his best when he’s been drinking and...when I was holding you, just then, you--you’re trembling.”
It was true. You hadn’t realized it, but you were more upset than you’d realized.
Letting out a sigh of defeat, you reached for your fiancé, whispering his name pleadingly as you climbed across his lap. Strong arms wrapped around your back, gripping you firmly as he pulled you into his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he breathed against your lips. “It’s alright, love.”
Feeling so safe in his arms, against his strong body, you pressed your lips against his, your fingers caressing up his neck, into his curls. Your body melted into his embrace as you slid your tongue over his. Admittedly, you were feeling a little desperate and Steven was most likely intoxicated, but it was heavenly to feel him pulling you into him as your tongues tangled, hands grasping to get somehow closer.
You went on like that for a short while, rubbing your body against his, sucking on his tongue the way he loved, fingers threaded through his curls, which made him almost feral. Lurching forward, he tumbled on top of you, ignoring the pounding in his head and running his hands up your bare thighs.
Despite how wonderful you felt, he paused, touching his forehead to yours for a moment of reprieve.
“Steven, are you okay?” You managed to whisper between kisses, looping your arms around his neck. “Your head still hurting?” You asked because you could tell he was holding back a little. You had been kissing for a while and his hands had yet to travel underneath your underwear or (Marc’s) oversized white t-shirt.
Easing his forehead down to your collarbone, Steven pressed a kiss to the soft skin of your chest. “Too much bloody whiskey,” he murmured. “Sorry, darling.”
“It’s okay. Feels good,” you breathed on his ear, which made him shiver.
“Didn’t mean to get too distracted, love,” he conceded, rolling off of you and rubbing his temples. “I know you’re worried about Marc. I am too, if I’m honest.”
There were no answers for you that night. Steven realized quickly that he needed some sleep and the two of you hoped that Marc might be there the next morning to give you some answers.
#moon knight#moon knight fic#moon knight fanfiction#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x you#steven grant x you#mcu#oscar issac fic
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My Knight in White
Marc Spector x fem!reader
Word count- 4.3k
Dialogue prompt- “ that was for saving my life. “
Action prompt- [ KISS ]: after having been saved from immediate danger by the receiver, the sender, in a state of intense emotion and relief, kisses them to express these feelings.
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Marc, mutual pining, minor violence, minor character death, harassment of reader (not Marc), damsel in distress, unprotected piv, no use of y/n
About this reader- she is smart but not physically badass, works with Egyptian artifacts but I left it vague so you can fill in for yourself exactly what she does, no specific city where they are is stated either so it's open for you to imagine wherever, no physical descriptions other than body parts
Notes- Posting my October Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 a little late because of kinktober but I'm so excited to share this! This is expanding on an idea that @melodygatesauthor had months ago who wanted to see a damsel in distress reader and Marc saving her!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!
~
“You’re here late,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.
You blinked, refocusing your eyes to the world around you. Looking around, you didn’t even realize how long you had been hunched over your desk, studying and cleaning the artifact that had recently been brought in. “Marc…” you breathed as you stretched, your back aching as you became aware of reality again.
He smiled softly as he uncrossed his arms, “You work too much, you know that,” he leaned against the doorway as he watched you.
Marc loved to watch you work. He loved to watch you do anything really, but when you worked, you became so focused, lost in concentration. You handled the old artifacts with such care and respect, he couldn’t help but linger his gaze on your hands. He had never met anyone smarter than you, and he loved to listen to you go on and on about any topic you found interesting. Marc took it upon himself to watch over you, making sure you were always safe even if you never truly knew just how much he looked over you.
“I lost track of time,” you replied as you gathered yourself and packed everything away, “I didn’t realize it’s after dark.”
“And the fact that everyone else left hours ago didn’t clue you in,” Marc smirked.
“Hey,” you playfully chastised him, “I can’t help it, I just got in the zone, you know. Besides, these new artifacts are so fascinating I just can’t tear myself away from them!”
It suddenly occurred to you that you and Marc were completely alone. He was right- everyone else left hours ago. As you stood up and made your way over to him, you took in his handsome features once more. And the way he leaned against the door made your thoughts run wild. The two of you had known each other for some time now, but you kept your true feelings to yourself, afraid of damaging your friendship or losing him.
Marc looked you up and down, “Want me to walk you home?” he offered as he followed behind you, watching you flip the lights off and lock everything up.
“I’m alright,” you suddenly felt nervous. Marc has been to your place many times, but the shiver that ran up your spine made your heart race, “I don’t live that far.”
He furrowed his brow, “You sure?”
“Yeah,” you replied with a soft smile, “Thanks, though,” you stepped in front of him before you turned back, “Good night.”
Marc watched you walk away before he whispered a hushed, “Good night.”
He watched you as you made your way down the street in the darkness until he couldn’t see you anymore. Marc had already decided he was going to follow you anyway, watching over you from afar, but when he saw a group of sketchy-looking men with wicked grins sneer and tail behind you, he knew he had to do more to keep you safe.
You wrapped your arms around yourself as you made your way down the street. You didn’t make it far from Marc when you noticed that a group of men started to follow behind you, and though you couldn’t make out their exact words, you knew they were talking about you. In that moment, you wished you took Marc up on his offer to walk you home, but you couldn’t turn around now. All you could do was hope you got inside fast before they caught up to you.
“Hey sweet cheeks,” one of them called out to you.
Too late.
You glanced over your shoulder and found that they were even closer to you than you thought, and you quickly bolted down the street without a word. That only egged them on more, however, and you heard them laughing behind you as they sped up as well.
“Oh come on, sweetheart,” they sneered, “We just want to talk to you.”
A gasp escaped your lips as you turned down a street, hoping to lose them. But, your plan immediately backfired as you found yourself trapped in an alleyway at a dead end. And you failed to shake them off your tail.
“Please,” you breathed as fear pulsed through your veins, “I’m just trying to get home.”
The men surrounded you, darkness shading their features, “We’ll get you home, sweet girl.”
The others chuckled as they started to reach for you.
“Please leave me alone,” you tried to sound more assertive, but you knew you didn’t intimate them at all. They were all very muscular and taller than you, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance even if you tried to fight back. But that didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.
You screamed when one of them grabbed your arm, and you swung your fist into him as hard as you could while digging your feet into the ground. Gritting your teeth, you tried your best to yank yourself from his grip, but tears of frustration filled your eyes when you realized it was useless.
“No!” you cried out as you tried again, your pleas drowned out by their cackling laughter.
Suddenly, your luck changed.
Out of nowhere, something yanked the man who helped you back and he yelped as he found himself flung against the wall of the alleyway. The other men all looked up as a hooded figure in all white descended down and immediately went on the attack against them.
You gasped as you scurried back out of the scuffle, pressing yourself against the opposite wall as much as you could as if you tried to phase through the wall and disappear. Your eyes went wide as you watched the mysterious hero fight off the men who attacked you, beating and punching them down until none of them moved.
The figure then turned to you, and time froze for several moments.
He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice from under the mask said.
You couldn’t help but feel like the voice was familiar. But, you stayed silent.
“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” your rescuer asked as he stepped closer to you, looking you over.
Your hands trembled, but not from fear this time. Taking a deep breath in for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally replied in a hushed voice, “No,” you whispered, “I’m alright.”
As he stepped close enough so you could reach for him if you wanted, you studied his outfit more. He wore all white, but as he got closer, you noticed it looked like linen wrappings, almost like a mummy. A crescent moon symbol adorned his chest and a white cloak covered his head. You could see the muscle definition even through the thick wrappings, and it made you swallow hard.
You had no idea what came over you at that moment- perhaps it was the adrenaline- but without a word, you reached out for him, grabbed him and pulled your bodies closer as you laid a kiss on his mask where his mouth would be.
It caught him off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he cradled you close, holding onto your waist with one hand and your arm with the other. It felt warm, comfortable, right.
“What was that for?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.
You smiled at him, “That was for saving my life,” your voice was still hushed, your breath taken away, “Thank you.”
He cupped your chin affectionately. Through the mask, he studied you up close. Everything in Marc screamed to take it off and tell you who he was, but he also knew that knowing his secret would put you in danger. And Marc would not allow that. For now, he would be satisfied knowing you were safe, and that he was just in time. He only nodded, not saying anything else before he broke away from you and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night just as mysteriously as he appeared.
You watched in bewilderment as it took your brain several moments to process what just happened. You touched your lips as you realized that you kissed a total stranger, and one who you didn’t even see his face too. But, as you looked around and saw the men laying on the ground, the adrenaline ran through your veins once more and you ran out of the alleyway and quickly made your way home.
The whole time, Marc watched from the rooftops until you were safely inside.
*
In the following weeks, you threw yourself completely into your work to cope with what happened that night. A mix of emotions constantly filled your head, and you found that pushing them away with the distraction of work was the easiest way to deal with them. There were days where you hardly looked up from your desk, so deep in concentration that the rest of the world was a blur around you.
Marc kept a watchful eye over you the entire time. He knew why you were like this, but when others asked he feigned ignorance. No one had to know what happened to you, and it wasn’t up to him to tell anyway. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on you from afar, like he always did.
Vaguely, you were aware of Marc’s presence in the shadows… and it felt familiar to you somehow. He always kept an eye on you, but after that night it somehow felt different. But, having him close was one of the few comforts you had after your attack. Yet, your mind also wandered toward the mysterious hooded figure who rescued you…
“Hey,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.
You looked up with a startled gasp, not realizing how late it got. Again. “Marc,” you breathed.
He looked worried, “Everything alright?” Marc asked, “You’ve seemed… off lately.”
Your eyes darted from his face to your desk a few times as you felt nervous suddenly, “I’m fine,” you knew you didn’t convince him, you didn’t even convince yourself.
Marc sighed your name as he settled down next to you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”
Heat rose in your face, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you exhaled deeply, “Besides, you’d just make fun of me.”
“Never!” he exclaimed, acting playfully offended before he turned serious, “What’s on your mind?”
The comforting tone in his voice and the warmth of his presence allowed you to let your guard down, “Ok…” you took a breath, “The night I was here late a few weeks ago,” you started, “A group of guys tried to jump me,” your voice quivered and you felt Marc’s hand over yours, “But I was saved by…” you paused as you looked at him sheepishly, “A guy in a hood and something that looked like mummy wrappings.”
Marc’s face lit up as he grinned knowingly at you.
You nudged him playfully as you erupted into a fit of giggles out of pure embarrassment, “See I knew you were going to laugh at me!”
“No, sweetheart I’m not laughing at you,” Marc raised his hands defensively, “I swear!”
Something changed in the air between you as you stared at each other. The light atmosphere shifted and it felt like something heavy lingered between the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized just how close Marc sat to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you studied his features. Not to mention that was the first time he called you anything affectionate like that…
“Marc…”
“Listen, I…,” he started, interrupting you.
Leaning in, you were entranced by him and you hung on his every word. Just being near him and laughing like this made all your troubles melt away. You felt safe here, with him.
But, before Marc could continue, a loud crash cut him off.
Both of you jumped up, and you let out a soft shriek. Marc immediately went into defense mode and every muscle in his body tensed. It was late, and the two of you were the only ones in the building. He made sure the doors were locked too, so he knew whoever broke in meant trouble.
“Marc?” your voice shook.
“Listen to me,” he turned to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I need you to sneak out of here. Take the back exit and hide somewhere. I’m going to distract them and get a path for you to get out.”
“But the artifacts,” you whispered as you glanced over at the old objects on your desk that you spent weeks cleaning and studying. The first thought in your mind was that these are robbers looking to steal and sell them, and you didn’t want that to happen.
“Things can be replaced,” Marc sounded urgent, “We can get them back. I’m more worried about getting you safe right now.”
Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, stunned. Just as you were about to reply, though, another crash made you jump and Marc pulled you in close to keep you calm.
“It's gonna be alright,” he murmured to you, “Just trust me. Ok?”
You pulled back to look into his eyes again, “I trust you.”
He nodded as he pressed his lips together, “Ok,” how Marc sounded nervous, “Stay low. Stay in the shadows. And just get out. You hear me?”
Swallowing hard, you nodded. Then your brain caught up with you, “What about you?”
Marc smirked, “I’ll be alright. Just trust me.”
There was no time for explanations as another crash echoed in the room- they were getting closer. Marc ushered you out of the door and down the hall before he ran in the opposite direction towards the intruders. You glanced over your shoulder at his retreating figure before you made your way down the hall, crouching low and out of sight as you did so.
As you made your way to the back door, however, you noticed that it was blocked- one of them already made his way there.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you changed direction. Instead, you went up to the roof in hopes of finding a place to hide until Marc did… whatever he was planning to do.
But that plan also quickly backfired.
You ran up to the roof and into the open area there, but you were met with yet another thug who blocked the opposite entrance from where you were.
“Well look what we have here,” he said with a dark grin on his face.
Letting out a gasp, you tried to run back where you came from, but another sinister shadowy man blocked that path. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.
“Please,” was all you could whimper as you felt them close in on you.
The men just laughed as they stepped closer, reaching for their guns as they did so. But, before they reached you, one of them was yanked back, slamming into the wall. You looked up and saw the same hooded figure that saved you before swooping down from seemingly nowhere.
More of the thugs appeared from the doorway and they yelled as they pulled out their guns and started to fire on both of you. The hooded figure rushed over to you and wrapped his cloak over both your bodies, shielding you.
You covered your head out of instinct, but as you felt a warm presence, you looked up and found yourself face to face with your linen wrapped savior once more.
“It’s you,” you gasped in relief. The ringing of the guns suddenly sounded distant.
The mask started to peel away on its own, revealing none other than Marc. He breathed your name, “Are you alright?”
“It’s you!” you sounded stronger that time, in total shock that it was Marc the whole time.
“I told you I wasn’t making fun of you,” he flashed a quick smile before he turned serious again, “I don’t have time to explain now,” he said, “I’m going to fight these guys off. You need to hide somewhere until they’re dealt with. I’ll come find you when it’s safe, I promise.”
The intruders and the guns were more pressing at the moment, so you swallowed and nodded.
When Marc found an opening, he pushed you towards the door, “Go!” he shouted as he turned back to the intruders and fought them off.
You ran.
Running on pure instinct, you bolted down the hall and turned a corner into a closet. Luckily, no one was around and you hid yourself well. You crouched in the corner as you listened to the grunts and gunshots in the distance. At one point, you covered your mouth to stifle a scream, suddenly scared for Marc. You fought back tears, swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t cry.
Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, the fighting stopped. Silence filled your ears but you didn’t dare move. Your hands trembled slightly against your face as you strained to hear the one voice that would bring you comfort.
And then you heard it.
Marc called out your name as he stood in the hall, frantically looking for you, “Baby it’s alright. You can come out.”
You let out the breath you held, all your fear escaping with it as you leapt up and out of your hiding spot. Down the hall, you saw Marc standing there, his knighty suit still adorning his body but his face exposed. “Marc,” you breathed in relief as you ran towards him.
“Sweetheart,” he sounded just as relieved as he ran towards you with open arms.
The two of you crashed together in a messy embrace, emotions getting the better of both of you. He rested a hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you in as close as he possibly could. Tears flowed from your eyes as relief washed over you, yet the pulse of fear still ran through you after everything that happened. Vaguely, you heard Marc whispering soft words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear.
“Come on,” Marc said, “I’m getting you out of here,” he slid his hand in yours.
“But…” you tried to protest, not wanting to leave any of the artifacts alone.
“It’s ok,” he gave you a soft smile, “They’re dealt with. Right now I want to make sure you’re safe.”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process everything. So much happened in such a short time, and you weren’t sure how to react to it. Time passed in a daze as you found yourself at Marc’s place, settled comfortably on his couch with a mug of tea in your hands. You felt safe with him, of course, but you felt like you were outside your body.
The two of you talked for what felt like hours. Marc told you everything- all of his secrets that he kept hidden for so long. He promised you that he would always protect you, and he explained why he didn’t tell you before. As he talked, the sound of his voice calmed you, like an embrace of your heart. Your eyes moved from where they stared at the mug to meet his gaze.
“I promise you, baby,” Marc cupped your face, “Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”
Heat rose in your face, and you were sure Marc felt how warm you were. But, as you stared into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter and his charming gleam sent a rush of fresh emotions through you. Without a word, you closed the gap between your bodies, crashing your lips together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you climbed into his lap and Marc instantly helped you closer. Deepening the kiss, you felt a tingle on your skin as you tasted him, and you felt the reverberation of his moan against your body.
“What was that for?” he asked in a whisper, “Not that I’m complaining.”
You smirked against Marc, “I wanted to thank you properly,” you breathed, “With a real kiss this time.”
Marc cupped your face as he gazed into your soul through your eyes, “Baby…” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for another kiss.
This time, it felt different. It was desperate and heated, but there was also the warmth and passion behind it. You moaned into Marc’s lips as you rocked your hips against his. He tightened his grip on you as a rush of need pulsed through his veins, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched underneath you.
Breaking away for air, Marc saw the look of wanton need in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
You cupped his face, brushed your fingers along his dark curls, “I’m sure,” you whispered as you kissed him again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you paused before you sheepishly added, “I’ve wanted this so so long…”
Marc grinned, his face lighting up, “Then let’s do this right.”
Shifting your bodies, Marc stood up and extended his hand. You eagerly took it and allowed him to lead you over to his bed. Excitement bloomed between you and before you even made it to the bed, your hands were all over each other. Kisses decorated your steps as you each tugged at the other’s clothing until you were bare.
You and Marc crashed into his bed, and he quickly laid overtop of you. He paused for a moment, breathless as he took in the sight of you bare underneath him, “Fuck you are beautiful,” he breathed.
“So are you,” you sighed in pure admiration as you grabbed his face and yanked him in for another kiss, “We can take our time later,” you murmured between kisses, “I need you too bad right now.”
“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his length along your folds. It didn’t go unnoticed that you mentioned a next time either… But your moan broke Marc out of that thought, and a shiver ran up his spine as he felt his cock against your pussy, “Wet already,” he smirked.
“Please Marc,” you pleaded.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he moaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.
Slowly, carefully, Marc pushed himself into you, causing you both to gasp at the same time. You clawed at his arms, holding on for dear life as the slight burn of his cock stretching you out went jolts of pleasure through your body. Fresh tears filled your eyes at the sensation, and you never felt more alive, more pleasure than ever before.
“Marc…”
He groaned your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Fuck,” he breathed. Marc cradled your face as he rocked in and out of you, slowly at first, but the more you moaned the faster he moved, “You’re perfect,” he moaned, “Shit…”
“Fuck… Marc… You feel so good,” you moaned as you saw stars every time his cock slammed into you.
It didn’t take long for you to feel the tingles of your approaching climax. Your legs trembled on either side of Marc’s body as he thrust into you over and over again and you dug your nails into his soft skin as you clung to him. Incoherent praises flowed from his lips as both your moans grew louder and louder as you lost yourselves in each other.
“Marc… I’m…”
“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words from earlier.
Skin slapped against skin as Marc felt his own climax apparach. But, he was determined to send you over the edge first, and with just a few more thrusts of his hips, he got what he wanted. With a loud scream, you came hard, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. And fuck you had never looked more beautiful to Marc.
He kept up his pace as long as he could, watching the show you put on just for him and savoring every second of it. But, Marc’s eyes started to roll back as he felt his orgasm quickly build, egged on by the way you clenched your inner muscles around his cock. And with a groan of your name, he came right after you, spilling himself into you as he did so.
Marc collapsed on top of you, completely spent. But, after just a few breaths, he shifted himself, pulling out of you with a hiss before he laid next to you. You let out a whine at the loss, but quickly curled yourself up in his embrace as Marc held you close. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.
“Marc, I…”
“Shhh,” he gently hushed you, “Just rest now baby,” Marc cradled your head as he placed a soft kiss, “I’ve got you.”
You hummed contently as sleep quickly took you over. Between the excitement, the danger and the rush of emotions, you suddenly found yourself exhausted and in no time you feel sound asleep in Marc’s arms.
Marc stayed awake for some time, listening to the sound of your heavy breaths. He knew exactly what you wanted to say, and as much as he wanted to hear you say those words, he knew it was better to wait. He gave your body one extra squeeze before he whispered to your sleeping form, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart… I love you.”
#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#marc spector x y/n#marc spector imagine#marc spector fanfiction#marc spector fic#marc spector fanfic#moon knight fanfic#moon knight x reader#moon knight x you#moon knight x y/n#moon knight imagine#moon knight fic#moon knight fandom#moon knight fanfiction#marc spector moon knight#oscar issac characters#oscar isaac fandom#moon knight#oscar isaac#oscar isaac fic#oscar isaac fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fandom#marvel#moon knight comics#marvel moon knight
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Why Don't You Punish Me Then?
Poe Dameron x F!Reader
For @for-a-longlongtime and this Ask
Summary: You and Poe are in denial, but it's clear you're insatiable for one another.
Warnings: Bondage, Voyeurism, pet names, public petting, bratty behaviour, switch dynamics, sub/dom dynamics, cucking (with a toy), orgasm denial play, unprotected PiV(but established relationship so some assumed assurances), cable-ties, questionable physics.
(Set somewhere in the time Leia is still alive, RIP Space Queen, we love you Carrie <3 )
Thank you @noxturnalpascal and @merz-8 for doing a quick sweep of this for me <3
[AO3]
Wordcount: 3.1k
Poe can’t stop touching you under the table during the debriefing. It’s been weeks since you were last in the same room and as impatient as you are to be alone with Poe, he’s kriffing insatiable.
“Stop,” you hiss under your breath as Commander Organa addresses the room. You’re sat at the very back, the lighting around you soft enough that even though you’re practically sat in Poe’s lap, no-one seems to notice – or care.
You two are the worst kept secret in the fleet, but neither of you have the guts to make anything official. It’s hard to place permanent labels on things when you’re in the midst of an intergalactic war.
“Stop what?” He asks as he brushes his lips against your ear, his right hand trailing up the inside of your left thigh as you try not to squirm. Heat pulses through you with every minuscule movement of his fingers as he inches up your thigh.
From the outside, it might look like Poe is whispering something about the mission. The pair of you are known to conspire during meetings, and critique mission briefings, much to command’s ire. But only you are privy to the way your cunt clenches at the wet drag of Poe’s tongue against the shell of your ear.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” you hiss, your breath catching in your throat as you feel two thick fingers stroke against the front of your jumpsuit, “Quit it.”
“You need to work on your poker-face,” he taunts you as he rubs firmly up and down against your clothed cunt. You have to stifle a moan at the way the friction makes your toes curl. Heat pools in your core and you stop yourself from bucking your hips to chase the delicious friction.
“You need to stop, seriously,” you snap as you gently prise his hand away from your aching core.
“Or what? Are you going to punish me?” Poe rasps in your ear as he entwines his fingers in yours, guiding your hand to his lap. You bite your lip as you feel his hard cock swelling under your fingers as he holds your hand against the front of his tight pants.
“You deserve it, horny asshole,” you hiss as you notice Leia’s eyes wander over to the pair of you.
“Do you two have something you’d like to share?” She asks, looking pointedly between you.
“No ma’am.”
The pair of you say in unison and Leia rolls her eyes at you before continuing. You can almost hear her telepathically telling you two to get a room.
“See how you make me feel?” Poe continues his verbal assault on your self-control as he slowly grinds his clothed dick against the palm of your hand. His hand is back on your thigh now, but you don’t move your own from his cock. You’re practically salivating at the promise his rock-hard bulge infers.
“I do,” you breathe as you grip him through his pants, “But I don’t think you deserve to be rewarded for this behaviour, Dameron.”
“Why don’t you punish me then?” He growls in your ear as you feel his thick fingers grind against your clothed clit.
“Meet me in my quarters,” you snap as the meeting finishes up and the rest of the mission crew depart. You catch Leia giving you an amused grin as you leave, you swear one of these days she’s going to call you out on your joint bullshit, but not today. She knows you two have some catching up to do.
~*~
Poe crashes his lips against yours the moment your door opens, pinning you to him with his large hands on your hips. You lean into his strong form as you lick into his pliable mouth. He walks you back to the bed and before he can push you down you hook your foot behind his ankle and push him off-balance. You turn him around deftly as you press him down onto your small cot.
“Missed you so much,” he groans as he pulls you flush against him, one hand pawing at your right breast as the other slides the zipper of your jumpsuit down.
“Missed you too, now strip,” you bark as you slide back off his lap, continuing to undress as you watch Poe scramble to pull off his clothes. His eager eyes are on you as he lies bare, his thick cock weeping against his abdomen as he looks up at you.
“So needy,” you admonish him as you continue to slowly peel off your suit. You kick off your boots and stand there in your cotton panties and bra as he fawns up at you, “You’re being punished remember? Up on the pillows like a good boy.”
Poe whines softly at the condescension in your tone but does as he’s told, shuffling back up against the far wall of the cot.
“Good, arms up,” you order as you crawl up the bed to meet him before leaning down to the nightstand, “Remember your safe word?”
“Geonosis,” Poe recites it quickly, tongue darting out over his dry lips as he watches you, his body twitches as he tries to stay still.
“Good,” you coo as you pull out a bundle of cable-ties, “Stay still.”
You straddle Poe’s hips as you pull out the anchor point from the wall above him, something you’d had installed off the books by one of the ship’s mechanics. Nothing like exchanging a good bottle of liquor and a carton of death sticks for discretion on a Resistance fleet ship.
“Please,” Poe whimpers as you let your tits brush against his face as you loop the cable-ties through the anchor and around his wrists, “Can I?” He asks as he looks between your hardened peaks and your face.
“As long as you promise to be good?” You taunt as you lean forwards, brushing your right breast agains his lips. You stifle a moan as you feel him latch onto the stiff nub.
“Promise,” he murmurs against your skin as he suckles gently on your tit. Your head lolls back as he gently nips at the tender flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your body. You grind your hips forward, your wet slit gliding along his length as he groans into your breast.
“Love your tits,” he mewls as you offer him the second one, he takes it greedily into his wet mouth as he strains against his bonds, “So fucking perfect.”
You let out soft moans as he worships your tits, pressing his face between them occasionally as he mouths at your sternum.
“Please, let me fuck you?” He whimpers and a delicious smirk plays across your lips.
“Begging already? Such an eager boy,” you hum as you lower yourself onto Poe’s lap, the sticky, silken press of his cock against your ass cheeks makes his eyes roll back into his head.
“Please,” he whines again, and you rock your ass back against him a little as he bites his lip, his eyes glassy with desire as he pleads.
“No,” you say as you lean forward to press your lips against his, “You’re just going to have to watch.”
Poe’s face drops as he registers your words, pulling on the cable-ties as they dig into his wrists. His jaw tenses as you move backwards off him, making sure to drag his tip through your soaked folds as you do.
“You’re being cruel,” he pouts, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he tries not to show quite how much he’s enjoying this. It’s supposed to be punishment after all.
You pull a flat-bottomed desk chair up to the base of the bed, positioning so that the seat is in perfect eyesight for Poe. You secure the maglocks on the chair legs with a solid thunk against the Durasteel floor. You don’t want to risk toppling over mid-flow.
Once you’re happy the chair is secure, you rummage in one of your closets for a few moments before turning back to see Poe’s eyes trained on you. He’s beautifully desperate as his stumbled jaw ticks to the side, eyes almost bulging out of his head as his feet twitch in anticipation.
You saunter back over to the chair and with a flick of your wrist you slap a large silicone cock onto the chair. You’ve practiced this so well that the suction cup at the base takes first time. The black dildo wobbles precariously and Poe’s dick twitches as you steady it with your hand.
“If I can get myself off before you come, I’ll let you fuck me, however you want,” you explain, your voice low and dripping with challenge as you position your hips over the bulbous head of the black silicone dick, “So hold on tight, flyboy.”
You ease yourself down, groaning as you slowly spear yourself on the thick cock, your cunt is slick and inviting from all the teasing Poe had put you through earlier. You plant your feet on the floor, engaging your core as you start to move.
“Kriff, wish that was me,” Poe whines as you watch his hips buck up, chasing friction where there is none as he pulls on the cable-ties. His eyes are hooded as he watches your cunt take the toy with ease.
“Look at that needy cunt,” he growls, “Taking that fake cock so well,” he continues, and the gravelly rasp of his voice sends a lick of flame down your spine.
“Feels so good,” you sigh as you take the last few inches, the life-like toy rakes through your walls as it stretches you out, “So full,” you mewl as you drop your dominant hand down to your clit, the other hand tweaks each of your nipples in turn.
“Yeah? Feel as good as my cock?” Poe asks as you watch precome bead on his tip and leak down his shaft.
“Different,” you say as you wiggle your hips, making sure the toy is as deep as it can go.
You whine a little as you start to move, dropping one hand to steady yourself on the chair before rising all the way to the tip of the cock before letting yourself slide back down. You toy with your clit in slow, firm circles as you try to keep your eyes open and focused on Poe.
“Oh yeah,” Poe growls as he aimlessly thrusts up into the air as he watches you impale yourself on the toy, “Putting on a show for me, so kriffing hot.”
“You like it?” You pant as you start to rhythmically fuck yourself on the toy, “Like watching me cuck you with a fake cock?”
“I hate it,” Poe whimpers as you watch another pulse of precome leak from his tip, “Want to drag you down on my dick and fuck you dumb until all you can think about is begging for me to fill that sweet little cunt with my come.”
“Poe,” you whine as his vulgar words make you clench hard around the toy, “Think you can last, big boy? Or are you going to come all over your stomach like a pathetic, needy boy?”
You had intended to take it slow, make Poe fail to prove a point, but the more filth he spills from his pretty lips, the more it makes you greedy. You pick up the pace, fucking yourself in earnest on the slick silicone. Your breath comes in short, desperate pants as you feel your thighs burn with exertion.
“Who’s impatient now?” Poe teases as he bites his lip, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it glistens in the low light of your bunk, “Fucking soaked, fucking yourself so hard, you want my dick don’t you baby? Admit it.”
“Nuh-uh, punishing you,” you whimper meekly as your breathing hitches in your chest. The tight coil of pleasure twists in your core as you chase your pleasure with abandon. All you want is to feel Poe inside you, you’re tired of the games.
“Fucking slut, lying to my face,” he growls and you can’t hold on anymore, your cunt flutters around the toy as you spear yourself over and over as you feel your orgasm rip through you, “There she is,” he purrs as you hear the strain in his voice, “Good fucking girl.”
“Hate you,” you whine as you tremble and convulse, leaning back in the chair as your cunt pulses around the toy still buried deep inside you.
“I know baby,” Poe says, strain evident in his voice as he watches your chest rise and fall, slick pooling at the base of the toy and over the chair as you come down from your high, “Let me make you feel better, make it up to you yeah?”
“Might just leave you tied up,” you grumble, but you’re smiling and Poe’s smirk matches your own.
“Deal’s a deal,” Poe tuts at you as he twists the cable-ties in his fists, “Do you need help, princess?”
You hear the snap of the cable-ties and your eyes fly open as you see Poe up on his knees, already rubbing his chafed wrists.
“How did you-?” You splutter as you try and get up onto your feet but Poe lurches forward on the bed, pinning your hips down as he keeps you speared on the toy. You mewl and writhe from overstimulation, his large hands burning against your slick skin as he holds you there.
“Come on, you really need to invest in a good set of binders,” he hums as he nudges your jaw to the side as he takes your lobe in his teeth, “I’ve gotten out of more complex restraints in far more dire scenarios baby.”
“Poe, please,” you whine as he sucks slowly on your lobe, making you whole body tremble, “Need you.”
“I know,” he says with an edge to his tone, “I’ve got you.”
You cry out as he eases you up and off the toy, your cunt clenching around nothing at the sudden emptiness. You throw your arms around his shoulders as he slots his lips over yours. Poe spins in a slow circle before laying you on your back.
“Meant it earlier,” he mumbles through tender, hungry kisses, “I missed you so much.”
“Missed you too,” you pant as he shifts you up onto the pillows, already lining his throbbing tip at your core. One broad hand is steady on your hip, rubbing soothingly over your slick skin as his thighs hold your trembling legs apart.
“Ready for me?” He asks, a gentleness to his tone as he nudges the plane of his nose against your own.
“Always,” you say softly as you feel his tip breach your stretched out hole.
You sigh in unison as Poe enters you in one swift movement, the hand not holding your hip comes to cup your cheek.
“Isn’t that better?” He breathes as he slowly starts to rock his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pressing back in. No matter how much the toy had stretched you out, there’s a hot, blissful burn as you adjust to the real deal.
“Kriff, yes,” you cry out as he fucks down hard into you, setting the pace as you writhe under him, “I love it, I love it, I love y-!”
You catch yourself before you let the admission slip but you can see it in the way Poe’s face softens, he heard enough.
“I love you too,” he snarls through clenched teeth as he ruts into you harder than before, the tip of his cock grinding against your g-spot as you feel another orgasm cresting deep inside you.
“Not,” you grunt as a smile burns across your lips, “How I wanted to say that,” you giggle a little with exhilaration as you drop your dominant hand to your clit. The other fists in the curls at the back of Poe’s head.
“No better time,” Poe grins, his cock driving into your cunt with wet, desperate slaps, “Kriffing love you.”
You pull Poe’s head down, slipping your tongue between his lips as you feel the blinding pleasure peak inside you. You groan into his mouth as your release bursts through you, your cunt clamping down hard around Poe’s cock as he snaps his hips one last time before spilling deep inside you.
You lie there, tangled, drenched in one another’s sweat, and panting into each other’s open mouths as you can’t stop smiling. Poe peppers your face with gentle kisses as you feel him slip out of you. Immediately you feel your combined spend leak from you, dribbling down your ass and onto the sheets below.
“Why do we always get my sheets dirty?” You groan as Poe rolls off you, propping himself up on his elbow as he trails his fingertips down your chest, splaying his hand out across your belly as he leans down to place a soft kiss to your temple.
“Because you’re the one with the sex anchor in your quarters,” he grumbles and you can’t help but laugh.
“Fine, you’ve got a point,” you sigh as you look up into his dark eyes as they shine with affection.
“Did you mean it?” He asks softly, brushing his knuckles back up to your breasts, the coarse skin raking across your nipples and making you whine.
“That I love you?” You ask, your voice breathy as you scrape your blunt nails across Poe’s near-permanent five o’clock shadow.
“Yeah,” he breathes as he turns his head to press his lips against your palm.
“I did,” you say, heat prickling under the skin of your cheeks and up to the tips of your ears, “I just didn’t know if we were doing the whole feelings thing.”
“Same,” he admits with a heavy sigh, “But I don’t think I can keep pretending anymore.”
“Yeah,” you yawn as you trace the curve of his plush lips with your fingertips, “We need to talk to command about this,” you say, sobering a little as you feel the harsh tug of reality wrapping around your heart.
“Tomorrow,” Poe says softly as he leans back down to kiss you softly, “Right now we need to get showered and move to my bed, there’s less come on the sheets in my bunk.”
“Ever the romantic,” you laugh as you press your forehead against his.
It takes you another half an hour but eventually you’re tangled together in Poe’s cot, hearts hammering in unison as reality sets in. But for once you’re not running from the truth of who and what you and Poe are.
#Ask#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x you#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron smut#Star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars fandom#Oscar Isaac#oscar issac characters#star wars smut#Star Wars fic#Poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x female reader#Poe dameron fan fiction#Poe dameron fic#brat!poe dameron#the last jedi#rise of skywalker#the force awakens#fanfic#fanfiction
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LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO MASTERLIST
DESCRIPTION: She’s all Steven can think about in between the missing days and the American man inside his head. When Harrow’s jackals leaves Marc with a difficult choice, his hectic life is spun out of control as Seth, God of Violence and Chaos, comes to reap his reward in the form of a woman from Soho with a dark past and a crush on Steven Grant. (Lightly inspired by Last Night in Soho dir. Edgar Wright)
TRIGGER WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Sex trafficking/prostitution. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Abuse ex-boyfriend/lover, death, murder, gore, drug use. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be some implication to dubcon content. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. AGAIN MINORS DNI. * = smut warning
STEVEN GRANT & MARC SPECTOR X (EVENTUAL) AVATAR!READER. Friends to lovers trope (Steven Grant) Sunshine x Grumpy trope (Marc Spector), Light smut, explicit language, no use of Y/N, goes by nickname Dove. I ADORE LAYLA EL-FAOULY so she is still in the narrative but as Dove’s reluctant friend. Female!reader. AFAB!reader. I am English and do not have DID but have tried my best to do all the research I could on the themes I talk about (Ancient Egyptian culture/history/language. Experiencing DID etc) but if I am misinformed and offend anyone, know I am truly sorry and am more than happy to hear anyone’s corrections in my inbox and will do my best to fix it!
main masterlist
CHAPTER ONE - Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted.
CHAPTER TWO - She wakes up with a killer headache and a million questions when she realises two things: 1. the man in her room is not infact Steven Grant and 2. her body no longer belongs to her but to the God of Death.
CHAPTER THREE - With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward.
CHAPTER FOUR - Dove wakes up in Steven’s apartment for the second time covered in blood with only one thing on her mind. What the hell happened last night?
CHAPTER FIVE - Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.
CHAPTER SIX - Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.
CHAPTER SEVEN - Marc, his ex-wife and his supposed mistress head to Mogart’s to find Senfu’s sarcophagus, whatever could go wrong when the god of Chaos wants to be involved?
CHAPTER EIGHT - Dove, Marc and Layla escape Mogart’s with only more dead ends and questions unanswered. They’re running out of time before Harrow reaches the tomb, but one thing keeps sticking in Layla’s head more than the rest. Why does Dove look so guilty?
CHAPTER NINE * - Layla, Steven and Dove set off towards Ammit’s tomb across the dunes, only Steven and Dove have a heavy confession they’ve each been meaning to make.
CHAPTER TEN - Marc finds out the truth about Dove, and pays the mortal price.
CHAPTER ELEVEN -
CHAPTER TWELVE -
CHAPTER THIRTEEN -
CHAPTER FOURTEEN -
CHAPTER FIFTEEN -
Comment or send an ask to be tagged in new chapters!
#moonknight x reader#moonknight fanficiton#marc spector x reader#mary palmer#moonknight imagine#moon knight#moon knight x reader#steven grant fanfiction#steven grant x reader#steven grant#steven grant imagine#marc spector#marc spector fanfiction#marc spector imagine#jake lockely x reader#jake lockely imagine#Jake lockely fanfiction#oscar isaac imagine#oscar isaac x reader#oscar issac fic#marvel x reader#marvel#smut#steven grant smut#marc spector smut
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TEACHER'S PET (R18+)
MINORS GTFO
pairing: miguel o'hara x f reader
summary: you're a college freshman in biochemistry and miguel is your professor in biochemical engineering, a major subject that you're about to fail.
warning: I'm a feminist and I'm concerned.
word count: 1.9k+
contents: humiliation, degradation, age gap, height difference, fingering, oral sex, p in v, hair pulling, public groping.
MASTERLIST
It's your first year in college studying biochemistry, the exam results for the first semester's finals are supposed to be distributed today.
Your professor in biochemical engineering, Mr. O'hara discusses the grading system for the second semester but you're losing out of focus. You're staring at his thick voluptuous thighs, thick veiny hands and imagined how he would choke you with it.
You took a gulp at the thought of it. He then started the distribution of the report cards. Your stare followed him as he sat on the table, individually calling out your names and distributing the cards.
"Parker, good job. Reyes, do better next time. Stacy, impressive. Stark..... dios mio." His voice was hoarse. The way he says your last name followed by a spanish term you don't understand sounded like a moan but truly, a term of disappointment.
"Ms. Stark... Are you seriously daydreaming right now?" He asks with a stern voice.
"Oh um, no sir. W-What is it?" Your classmates tried to hold their laugh, you can hear them giggling.
"Get your ass over here." He orders. You stood and walked up to him, hands behind your back, signing 'fuck you' to all of your classmates.
"What are we gonna do with this?" He points at your grade in bio-engineering which is his subject and a major too. You looked at it by bending your torso down, slightly bowing cause you have an eyesight of a dying man. Your cleavage flashes in front of him unintentionally. He tries to look away and focus your report card.
"2.0 (C/73-76%). This is bad." Everyone in your school knows that you're a daughter of a billionaire genius and this is what you got.
Deep inside, you know that the reason you failed is because you've been partying too hard. Just like your father, you're a party animal.
"What can I do?" You asked worriedly.
"Meet me at my office at 6. Class dismissed." He stood up, towering over you at 6'9 ft. He walked out of the room with your classmates.
Your friend, Gwen Stacy clinged on your arm on the way to the cafeteria. You sat with her and his boyfriend, Peter Parker. You can't really understand what they're saying cause your mind is split between your daddy getting disappointed and your disappointed professor being such a daddy.
Four hours later, it's time to go home but you still have to go to Mr. O'Hara regarding your first semester results. You walked into an empty faculty, the other teachers already went home. You walked by Miguel's office window and saw him looking at his watch with what seems to be an irritated brow. You proceeded to walk inside his office, it's smells good and is neatly organized.
"Good evening Mr. Ohara."
"Miss Stark. You're 10 minutes late. Seems like you're not being very committed to your studies." He clenched his jaw and his pair of brow furrowed.
"I'm sorry I was j-"
"Was just expecting 'daddy' to fix it with his money?" He stood up and mocks, pertaining to your father offering a grant to your school.
"No... sir, I just ran into my friends." You opposed, looking down at the floor.
"Are they gone?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Sit down." He sighs.
In a heartbeat, you sat down in a reclining chair right next to the table. He walks up to you, taking his crotch inches away from your face.
"Good girl." He takes your chin to look up at him. The view made your heart race and your cunt twitch.
"You think I'm not aware of your lustful eyes, hermosa?" He looks directly into your eyes with his hands still on your chin. Your eyes gawks and your face slowly turns red, not knowing what to say.
"Mr- Sir, I uh, I'm here for extra credits." You stuttered.
"Uh huh, what else?" He leans down, not breaking an eye contact.
"Uhhh... um m-my dad can pay you!" You blurted out of nowhere. You didn't know what to say since your mind is occupated by dirty thoughts but now you just seemed like a brat.
"Daddy's money hmm?"
"I'm your daddy here." He whispered roughly onto your ear, his hands shifted from your chin into your neck, gently gripping under your jaws.
"Daddy?" You spoke weakly.
"That's right, bitch." He replied with smirk.
You kind of expected this as a cliché porn category but you had no idea that you're gonna experience this in real life.
"You want credits? You little slut?" He cups the side of your cheeks and leans back to watch your face near his pants again.
"Yes! Yes, I want it." You nodded in agreement.
"Then earn it." He grabs a fistful of your hair and rubs it softly in his black pants with a huge bulge on it. You can smell his essence leaking from the fabric. This is all you ever dreamed of since the first day of school, you didn't think it would happen but it DID. All of your fantasies, clothed in black, sliding across your face.
You unbuttoned his pants in a hurry, dropping his undergarments down then finally busting his dick in front of you.
"Good girl." He slapped your face and you loved it. You proceeded to wet your lips to seduce him. He gripped on your hair tighter as you lick the tip of his 8-inch fat cock.
"Fuck." He groans, his voice deep and hoarse. You licked his length, wetting it together with his pre-cum leaking from the tip then swirled your tongue in its head while jerking him off.
"Holy shit you're good." The corner of his lip curling upwards.
He started throat fucking you, his head thrown back, moaning in pleasure. His cock reached your throat but you continued to take it until your eyes water. Miguel likes the way you look, internally choked by his massive cock.
He drags you up and makes you open your mouth as you spread your tongue that still has his pre-cum.
"Swallow." He ordered and you followed. You showed him an empty tongue to prove it.
"I'm gonna fucking destroy you." He places his hand on your chin to squeeze your face and starts kissing you roughly, like you've taken something from him. This is exactly how you want it. It's wet, sloppy and aggressive.
His kisses trailed down on your neck, you let him take off your clothes, even tear it up. He threw your designer clothes in the air like it was nothing. You would let this man do anything to you.
He began to roam his hands all over your body, from pumping your breasts down to your vagina, already dripping. He circles his middle finger on your clit sensually.
"You want this?" Miguel asks between the kisses.
"Uh huh." Your mouth can't form a proper word but a moan. He slaps you again, wanting you to say it clearly.
"You want this, you whore?!" He dips his hand on your hole, teasing you.
"Yes daddy, do it!" A high pitch pornographic whine came out of your mouth.
He then crooks his head onto your neck, leaving marks as he rams his finger up in your hole, sounds of wet squelching, moans and ass slaps filled the corners of his office. He reaches for the back of your clit inside your tight cunt and it drove you crazy. Your eyes roll at the back of your head. Unlike your other sexual partners, Miguel knows all about human anatomy.
"I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you." He takes your hands from his cock to your back, pulls his belt out of his pants and then ties your wrists.
"Yes please, I've been dreaming of this." You replied while he bends you over on the desk.
"Oh I bet you do you fucking slut." Miguel teases the tip of his cock on your clit, both wet from foreplay.
"Please fuck... fuck me."
Without any reply, Miguel rams his long and fat dick inside you, filling your walls with euphoria.
You groaned in pain after he put his full length in.
"Daddy it hurts."
"Nah, you can take it cariño." He reassures then pins your head on the desk while thrusting deep on your leaking hole.
"You... You've been spending a lot of time with that Parker boy huh? You like him?" He asks curiously, grabbing your hair.
"No, please he's with Gwen." You explained.
"You guys fuckin? Huh?" He ignores your answer while pounding at your pussy, making you scream in pain and pleasure.
"No daddy, Pleaaase.... I only want you. I want youuu." He grabs your tits from the back, holding it for support as his pace goes slower, making it comfortable for you.
"That's my girl. Now I'm gonna make you mine." His last words before sucking the skin off of your neck, leaving love marks that is visible to everyone.
"Ironman's daughter, pumping on my dick with her drenched punani. What's he gonna do? Save you?" He laughs devilishly. At this point you didn't care about your reputation. Your body wants him, even your cunt pulses everytime you peak behind your back to see him using you.
"You're my daddy, please fuckin destroy me." You surrendered. Miguel removes his belt on your wrists and puts it back as he pins it over your head in missionary position. Now, he can see your face while he fucks you, your lips smeared in red lipstick, smiling psychotically. Becoming undone by the stroke of his dick, his hands playing with your nipples and the other holding your wrists.
Your smile made him excited. His thrusts go faster and faster as you scream his name. "Mr. O'hara I'm cumming." You whined. It made him chuckle, you using honorifics despite your pussy currently being destroyed. He bit his lips, carried you by the hips, using you as his fucktoy. He pumps his dick in your tight little hole in a doggy position. Your feet doesn't even touch the floor because of your height difference. You simply just hang in the air with your pussy continously getting pounded.
"Shit shit shit I'm cumming." He whimpers.
"Cum inside daddy." It's the first time you had sex without protection and now you want him to cum inside you.
"That's right, princesa."
He continued plunging his sword into your uterus ramming even harder, seconds later, he busts his load. Your pussy's leaking with his thick cum all the way to your thighs. He lets go of your hips and places you on the table, back arched, pussy flowing.
He puts your panties back without cleaning your pussy, only the sides and the extra cum dripped on your legs and thighs.
"You did great, mija" He kisses your forehead.
"I did?"
"Yes you did." He smiles softly, saying it like he's a proud mentor.
After that encounter, he kept you as his pet, your friends noticed the hickeys on your neck every now and then and your alibi is always getting burnt by the hair curler. Flash Thompson even joked that the hair curler you're talking about is Mr. O'Hara.
Even if you denied it and threatened him with a lawsuit, It's obvious. Your lustful stares in the classroom, the special treatment you get in class above all the other students.
At times when the corridor is empty, he would grope your ass, spank it and squeeze it until you reach the classroom, walking in together at the same time. Your friends would always ignore the same smell coming out of you and Mr. O'hara. Fucking in every empty room, any chance that you get. You've certainly become the teacher's pet.
#miguel x reader#professor miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#spider man smut#across the spiderverse#oscar isaac#marvel#marvel smut#degrading k1nk#mcu smut#oscar issac imagine#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o'hara#Spotify
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Rainy Nights | Moon Knight X Reader
ONE SHOT (maybe?)
warnings: jake/marc/steven x fem!reader, angst, !!!dv abuse (not by them, but by an ex), stalking, creepy text messages, and so many typos (ill edit it soon— i wrote this at 4am lol)
summary: When your coworker Steven has growing concerns regarding your safety from an ex-boyfriend, he decides to drive you home one night.
please reblog if u liked it! i love to see comments too :)
Anxiety pooled in the cavity of your chest as you walked through the dimly lit museum, its halls empty now past closing time. A relentless patter of rain against the roof amplified your defeated mood, casting a pall over the end of your shift. Leaning wearily against the gift shop counter, you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you.
“A long day for you?”
The male voice behind you jolts you, and you spin around, startled. "Maybe a warning next time?" you suggest, holding a hand over your racing heart.
Steven's lips form an 'o' of surprise before he nods hastily. "Apologies, really. I won't sneak up on you like that again." His eyes carry more guilt than he deserves, and you regret snapping at him.
"No worries, I might just startle too easily," you reply, resting your elbows on the countertop. "Nevermind me, how was your day, Steven?"
Steven's nerves spike at the chance to converse with you, a rarity amid your busy tour guide schedule. "Oh, you know," he stammers, grappling for words to make his boring gift shop shift sound cool. "Just a usual day for me." His gaze unintentionally dips to your attire, and he flushes, flustered by the sight of your breasts pressed together.
He shouldn’t look at you that way, he knows that. But you make him so nervous.
“I’m starting to think that I should’ve had control of the body for this interaction,” Marc spoke in his mind.
You nod and smile, charmed by Steven's shyness. "I hope that’s a good thing," you remark, recalling the challenges of your day as a tour guide at the museum. "Today, I was basically herding a bunch of primary school children. They were running off in every direction, and the chaperones were on their phones! It felt like I was conducting a circus instead of a museum tour." You gesture an explosion with your hand, prompting a cheeky smile from Steven.
A pinging sound from your pocket interrupts his response. Your eyebrows furrow as you dig it out of your dress pocket, unlocking it with your passcode.
Where are you, y/n?
Your heart sinks as you read the text from an unknown number, fear washing over your expression. Steven notices the shift in your demeanor, and resists the urge to glance at your phone. "I'm sorry, I just need to respond to this message," you murmur, turning away, your breaths growing shallow.
Please, it’s over. Just leave me alone.
His response came fast.
You know that isn’t true. I’ll come get you, why aren’t you home? I still care.
Are you already cheating on me with somebody else?
Please just tell me where you are, I’m sorry. I miss you so much. I just want to fucking talk to you.
A barrage of texts from your ex-boyfriend fills the screen with message bubbles. You swallow, feeling the weight clog your throat, your hands trembling as the desire to go home fills you.
To hide. That is, if home was still safe.
Steven's concern deepens as he draws near, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You flinch at the touch, hastily shoving your phone back into your pocket. But you know he's already had a glimpse of your phone screen. "Is everything alright, love?" he inquires, his voice laced with concern.
Marc was pissed off inside Steven’s head. “Who the fuck was texting her all of that?” he spat. Confusion grew in Steven’s mind as he contemplated the identity of the person behind the creepy messages. Lines of worry formed at the base of his forehead from the sound of your silence.
You force a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the turmoil swirling within. "It's nothing, just someone texting the wrong number," you respond, your voice strained with feigned nonchalance. Deep down, you know it's far from nothing. The barrage of texts dredges up memories you've tried so hard to bury, reopening wounds you thought had healed.
Steven's brow knit together, his gaze probing but respectful of your boundaries. "If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here," he offers gently, his sincerity evident in his soft tone. His words offer some reassurance amidst the anxiety raging inside your head.
You take a deep breath. “Thank you.”
Steven nods his head in understanding after a few moments, unsure as to his next words. “Y/N,” he pauses, “allow me to drive you home tonight, it is quite late.”
Your mouth parts slightly without a response as you turn back to look at him. His eyes drag over your sunken expression, clearly worried. The sound of rain hitting the museum roof and the darkness of the night influence your decision. “Okay,” you smile gratefully, “I’d appreciate that very much.”
—
Steven guided the way to his car, his presence feeling like steady anchor. The car ride unfolded in silence, punctuated only by the soft tunes of the radio's top hits playing at a low volume. Each bump in the road sent tremors through the small cabbie car, accentuated by the relentless rain hammering against the windows. You felt a sudden jolt as the car hit a rain-filled pothole, splashing dirty street water against the passenger window.
With trembling hands, you power off your phone, the text messages echoing in the back of your mind. Your clammy palms press together, trying to hold onto something solid. As the car gets closer to your neighborhood, your gaze slowly lifts from your lap, uncertainty flickering in your mind.
"Y/N," Steven's voice breaks the silence, causing your heart to slam against your chest like a trapped animal. "This might sound strange, but I want to ask you something."
You nod hesitantly, the taste of blood coating your tongue as you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit of yours.
"Are you sure you want to go back to your apartment alone?" His words hang heavy in the air, abundant with concern. He pauses, using the weight of his gaze to prob you for a response. "I saw some of those messages," he continues upon your silence, his voice gentle but firm. "If you need anything... I mean it, I can help you."
You interject sharply, a defensive edge creeping into your tone. "Please, don't get involved. I'm sorry you saw that, but he's harmless, I swear." Doubt snakes its way down your spine as you utter the words, his past violent outbursts echoing in your brain. The phantom memory of dark bruises left behind from the hard grip of his hands on your skin.
Grabbing, pulling, pushing you.
You fight your facial expression to seem happier, trying to reassure him that everything was alright despite the dread pulling down at your faux smile.
His car rolled to a gradual halt in front of your apartment building as the contents of your stomach threatened to come out of your throat in the form of vomit. You avert your gaze, but you can feel his eyes on you, silently pleading for a change of heart.
"Thank you, Steven," you say quietly, drawing in a sharp breath. "I don't know how I would've managed without you."
You muster a grateful smile, reeling yourself in as you gather your things from the car floor and step out. He breaks the silence by clearing his throat, causing you to pause and lean back into the open door to meet his gaze. Rain hits the clothing on your back.
"I can be there for you whenever," he says earnestly, “Please, don't hesitate to call me if you need me for anything, truly." He extends his hand, offering a taxi business card with his phone number written on it.
—
London Premium Taxi Service
Lockley, Jake
+44 20 1234 5679
—
Your eyebrows knit together at the unfamiliar name on the business card, but with rain still trickling down your clothing, the question fades from your thoughts. "Thank you again, Steven," you murmur, finally closing the cabbie door.
You walk hurriedly out of the rain and into your building, watching the cabbie car drive off as you make it inside. It felt worse to watch your reassurance of safety leaving. With a deep sigh, you enter the arriving elevator and watch as it ascends to your floor. A sense of unease nips at your resolve.
As the doors slide open with a soft hiss, your heart lurches in terror at the sight of him down the hall. A tall man standing outside your apartment door.
Him.
Shock freezes you in place, your breath catching as you lock eyes with your ex-boyfriend. “Oliver?”
“Y/N,” he proclaims breathlessly, his eyes widening with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. As you cautiously step closer, you can see a strange look to his pupils, as if under the influence of some kind of drug.
He speaks again, reaching out toward you. “I’ve missed you so much.”
You instinctively pull your arm away from him, but as quickly as you do, he grabs it again with greater force. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady your trembling nerves. “Why are you here?” A crack in your voice gives your weakness away.
"I just said I missed you, babe," he replies, his tone muddied with false concern. "You're all wet. Let's get inside and get you into something warm."
Your mind races, but every idea that comes to you gets jumbled. You never could properly articulate your thoughts around him. Today was no different. This was your fault, you should have hid yourself better.
You summon the last shreds of your resolve. “I don’t need your help, Oliver,” you manage to say, but your tone is not as firm as you wanted it to be. “Please, just leave.”
His lip curl upward as he tightens his grip on your arm. You suck in a breath, watching his as he slowly moves his free hand to your face. A stand your hair gets pushed back by his fingers, gently yet his fingers forcefully press into the skin of your face. “I won’t ask again,” he whispers.
You comply, digging your apartment key out of your work tote and hand it to him, your apology tumbling off your lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say shakily, trying to placate him.
“Good girl,” he says, taking the key from your trembling hands. And with a sense of dread pooling in the pit of your stomach, you watch as he unlocks your door with ease. The sound of the latch and the creak of the opening door echo in your ears. “Let’s go inside, love.”
As his hand releases your arm and slides down your waist to the small of your back, a shiver runs down your spine at the touch. With a guiding push, he leads you inside, the door closing with a soft click behind the two of you.
Oliver strides into the kitchen with an air of familiarity, his movements purposeful as he rummages through the cabinets and refrigerator for food. "Make yourself comfortable, love," he calls out, carrying a hint of authority as he commands the space.
You take a hesitant seat on your couch, the weight of his presence looming over you like a dark cloud. With trembling hands, you slip off your shoes, but in that moment, you think of what to do.
“Thank you, my love,” you force, “I’m going to go to the bathroom first, okay?”
He nods his head silently, gripping a bottle of wine as he pours himself a glass.
Walking into the bathroom, you close the door behind you with a shaky breath. You flick the business card between your fingers nervously as you dial Steven's number. Your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for him to pick up.
A gruff voice comes through the phone. “London’s Premium Taxi Service, how may I help you today?”
"Steven, is that you? It’s me, Y/N," you whisper urgently, the words tumbling from your lips in a frantic rush. "My ex-boyfriend is inside my apartment, he may be high on something, I’m not sure. I don’t want to get the police involved again, what do I do?”
A screech of tires pierces through the phone line. “Where are you in your flat right now? W—what floor is it on?” Steven stammers, his concern noticeable even through the phone.
You hear the unmistakable crash of a dish breaking outside of the bathroom in your kitchen, sending your heart racing in panic. “I live in 3D. I’m in the bathroom right now,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Stay there and keep the door locked, do not come out no matter what, okay? I’ll be right there to go get you,” Steven’s voice serves as a lifeline for a brief moment before the call ends abruptly. Tears begin to spill as you choke back your sobs.
You hear footsteps from outside the bathroom door. “Y/N! Come clean this fucking mess up,” Oliver’s voice permeates through the door, sending you into a quiet spiral as your hand drags over your lips to keep them shut.
“Y/N?”
“Y/N. Fucking answer me, open this door. What the fuck are you doing in there?” A pounding knock hits the door as it rattles against its frame.
“Open the door!” The sound of his shouting muffles in your brain and you slip into a panic attack, air refusing to saturate your lungs. The door shakes with every hard pound and pull of the door knob.
With a final slam, the door comes off its hinges as Oliver forces his way inside the bathroom. Your body trembles with sobs as you beg him for forgiveness, but his heavy hands fall on you anyway.
The force of his backhand sends you tumbling to the floor, the impact echoing through the small confines of the bathroom. In your haze, you’re unable to comprehend the words he shouts at you. The world blurs around you as his blows to your body continue. Your eyes flutter, the world spinning dizzily around you as he beats you with a savage force.
Until it stops. You take several moments to collect yourself, regaining your strength to be able to open your eyes. Two voices echo in the walls of your apartment as the ringing stops and your hearing slowly returns. A loud thud shakes the floorboards, followed by footsteps towards you.
“Y/N?” says a sweet voice, unrecognizable to you. “I should have gotten here faster, I’m so sorry.”
A gentle hand caresses your face as you try to open your eyes. Steven’s worried face comes into view, the coworker you’ve grown a liking to over the past few weeks. His phone is pressed against his ear and he speaks urgently into it.
“Steven?” you whisper, the words barely above a breath. In your daze, perhaps you had been delusional, mistaking his British accent for an unrecognizably coarse American one.
“I’m right here,” he exclaimed softly, caressing your hair. “I’m on the phone, an ambulance is on its way.”
As sirens soon begin to wail in the distance, piercing through the thin walls of the building, you find comfort in Steven’s gentle touches. You know that you’ll be okay.
#moon knight#marc spector#marvel fic#marvel#steven grant#oscar isaac#oscar issac characters#moon knight x reader#steven grant x reader#fanfiction
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