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theshireisburning-so-mordoritis · 4 months

Text

TELL ME YOU THINK ABOUT ME TOO

Part of the Seven Nights Of Sin - Series Three

Steven Grant x F!Reader (hints of Marc Spector x F!Reader) 18+. 9K. Friends to lovers with a shit ton of pining. Female masturbation. Oral sex (fem receiving). Unprotected shower sex. Steven being all soft and needy but also a little feral.

Prompt: "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

Requested by: @acrossthesestars , I am so sorry for how long this has taken me and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

Their relationship was an odd thing Steven thought. Chaotic in the kind of way that not many would understand.

God, he just barely understood it himself after all.

It's him and it's Marc and it's you, all entwined, your lives like singular threads that were blown together and now lay impossibly tangled. Knotted so tightly that even if someone was to try and shear them apart, there would still be remnants of the others embedded in the one they tried to pull loose.

And then it went beyond that.

There were the separate tanglements that branched from the heart of the whole one. Himself and Marc. Marc and you. You and him.

He knew that there were differences - that there was something more between you and Marc. Another level to the relationship that Steven yearned for but felt would be pushing his luck to try and approach with you after you had already given him so much.

When he wasn't in control he sometimes saw fragments of it, glimpses that made him flush and his chest tighten, desire clashing with the jealousy that sat like an uncomfortable weight in the back of his throat. He saw you through the thinning glass between the alters, saw your lips part around a throaty moan that hit him like a train, the slopes of your bare skin, sweat slick and gleaming, as your back bowed in pleasure.

He was always quick to turn away before he saw too much, squeezing his eyes shut to give you your privacy and to chastise himself for those feelings that were steadily slipping further out of his already shaky control.

He was arguing against himself, the part of him that craved more than he should, stern in the reasoning that he should be grateful to have you in any capacity. To have your friendship and your care, your protectiveness over him and the way your eyes glowed with interest, gaze fixed on him and smile soft, warm and encouraging, no matter what subject he chose to ramble on and on at you about.

And if that wasn’t enough to make him hold his tongue then the insecurities that clung to his bones and his insides - his poor lovesick heart - in strings of black tar, were certainly more than willing to do the trick.

Because why would you want him like that when you've already got someone like Marc? Someone so clearly your equal.

Would you be offended by the idea of him as a partner - of being with both of them?

What if he ruined things entirely - made things weird and you leave? Plunging your hand in that mess of threads and ripping yours away, splitting fibres that burrowed beneath his skin and left him forever haunted by the ghost of you.

It didn’t matter that Marc had tried to tell him otherwise, gave Steven as many hints as he could without revealing the extent of your feelings because that was your business and not his place. His voice growing exasperated the longer that Steven refused to do anything about it.

"Do you really think she would put up with all of this, if she didn't love both of us?"

Yes.

No.

Bloody hell, he didn't know.

It’s a question he didn't have an answer to and so he chose to ignore it completely.

Buried it alongside the too fast flutter of his pulse beneath his skin when you drifted close, when your hand was threading through the mess of his curls. Gentle fingers tilting his jaw, stroking the fragile skin beneath his eyes as you checked for signs that he wasn’t sleeping as well as you’d like before you mumbled out a happy sounding noise, pleased when you found none.

He swallowed it back and pretended it didn't burn all the way down. Like the thought didn’t feel like it would burst him to flames the same way it did when he woke to find you wound around his body, legs tangled with his and your breath, soft and warm, against his neck.

The only reaction you gave when realising you had fallen asleep with Marc and woken with Steven, being the shy smile that crept across your lips as you gazed up at him, arms making no move to let him go, to push him away and create distance.

He didn’t know what else he was supposed to do.

He was in over his head.

It was after a fight that it happened.

They returned to the quiet of their hotel room, heads down and bodies tucked in on themselves as they passed through the plain reception and the corridors with their aged, peeling wallpaper until there was the relief of the door clicking shut behind them.

They were stained with the after effects of their violence. Blood splattered jaws and rust beneath their nails, the collar of Steven’s sweater torn wide, slit at the abdomen from where he was stabbed before he’d remembered to summon the suit and when he looked at you, there were already bruises blooming. Creeping across your skin - the swell of your cheek - before his very eyes, muddied shades of navy and lavender that made him wince and his hands twitch.

You smiled when you caught it, all easy charm, a sweet, placating thing that softened the sharp edges that still clung to your features after a mission. “I’m fine Steven.” You told him gently. “Nothing a shower and some bandages won’t fix anyway.

He nodded, a little unsure as always, trying to offer a simple smile back because Steven’s learned it’s best not to hover when it comes to you. To treat you like you were made of glass just because you were something infinitely precious to them. That you could easily grow frustrated at the way Marc loomed like a pissed off drill sergeant and Steven fretted like a frantic, mother hen when they saw you hurt all because you lacked an ancient god fused to your bones and hooked in the meat of your soul.

Instead he slipped into the bathroom and cleaned away the blood that itched at his own skin, his stomach only faintly twisting this time as he watched it swirl pink in the water before slipping down the drain.

He was getting better at it, he realised belatedly. It didn’t feel like he’d lose whatever food he had managed to get down that day anymore when he was faced with the evidence of what he had done, like his stomach wanted to turn itself inside out and he needed you to scrape the sweat-damp droop of his curls away from his clammy forehead. Mouthing soothing sounds into his shoulder as he groaned and coughed up his guts.

Once he was dressed in something that didn’t look like it’s seen the inside of a shredder he went out again.

It was routine by now. Him or Marc would go in search of food - flaky pastries dusted with cinnamon or soaked in syrup. Steaming pasta in rich, silky sauce with thick slices of buttery garlic bread. Tacos. Gyoza. Earl grey cake from the bakery you passed on your way into town.

Anything you asked for because it was the only way you ever really let them take care of you, only huffing slightly when they handed you the painkillers that you absolutely always argued you didn’t need if they didn’t bribe you first.

And by the time they typically got back you would already be lounging in the bed. Hair slightly damp from the shower, wounds neatly bandaged, and looking far too warm and soft than Steven’s poor heart could handle, sunk into the plethora of mismatched pillows.

It always made his heart flutter in his chest to come back to you waiting, to step into the room and find your eyes shining over at him, your hands already outstretched, making grabbing motions that had him chuckling as you beckoned him towards you with the food. Head tilting in the direction of the box tv as you teased him with a grin. “It’s about time, there’s an old crime documentary about to start, I thought we could watch whilst we eat.”

Which is why it struck him as odd when he returned and there was no sign of you. The bed still neatly made. The blank screen of the tv staring back at him, projecting nothing but his own reflection, when his gaze flicked to it.

He relaxed when he registered the faint sound of running water - the repetitive pattering of spray hitting the tiles. Shook his head at how his body had immediately drawn tight with anxiety all because you weren’t where he had expected you to be. The breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding blowing past his lips in a rushed exhale at the smell of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, comforting in a way he couldn’t explain, seeping beneath the bathroom door.

Everything’s fine. She’s fine. You were just worrying over nothing.

But then he heard it.

His name.

Or at least, he thought he did. There was a few beats of silence when he stopped, quietly placing the bag of food onto the side as he strained to listen. Nothing.

It was maybe his imagination, he thought.

Maybe you had been mumbling to yourself, singing beneath your breath like he knew you liked to do when you thought no one could hear. He went back to sorting the food with another shake of his head, a mutter to himself that he was growing far too paranoid as he pulled out the containers and the plastic utensils before reaching over to the little tv to find something you might be interested in watching when you eventually did come out.

And then he definitely heard it again.

A touch louder, clearer that time than the last, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sound. It was a pained thing - a low moan that cut to a whimper and Steven almost completely lost his head.

Were you hurt? Had he left when you needed him? What if you’re trying to hide the seriousness of one of your wounds, bleeding out in there because of your stubborn refusal to worry him?

He called to you once. A second time that was steeped in a dizzying panic, and when there was no response again all thought went out the window. He was lunging for the door to the bathroom, sweat-damp hand fumbling with the handle before he nearly wrenched the damn thing off despite Marc’s suspiciously calm voice in his head telling him ‘Steven wait..it’s not what you think-’

He almost snarled at that, bristling in disbelief that Marc could be so unbothered when Steven’s fear had snapped to life in an instant to clutch him by the throat. There was an anger he wasn’t quite used to rushing through his chest, burning vicious and ugly, charring his bones as he spat back at the other man, “If you think I’m going to ignore the fact that she’s seriously hurt then you’re fucking mental, what is wrong with you!”

Marc didn't respond, at least not with words - there was a weary sigh that seemed to say ‘suit yourself’ and then silence. Good.

He refused to pay him mind, to focus on anything else other than you, getting you the help you needed, and when he finally flung the door open, the noise of it hitting the wall almost deafening in the silence of that tiny room, everything suddenly stumbled to a halt as what he’d just walked in on seared itself upon his brain. Burning bright behind his eyelids when he slammed them shut, a hand slapped over them for good measure.

Because you were all bare, steam-slick skin. Glittering with the droplets of water that caught the light and shone as they trailed down your body in a way that made the image of him catching each one with his tongue flash across his mind, unbidden, entrancing him until his gaze had followed a shimmering path to where he'd discovered the hand buried between trembling thighs. Your fingers that halted their quick, jerking movements as your pretty features morphed from pleasure to stunned surprise.

“Oh god - bollocks - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-"

He was rambling. Stammering on his words like his tongue was too thick for his mouth, choking on the billows of steam he was breathing in as his face flushed with the sickening kind of heat that came with pure mortification and good fucking god, what the hell was he doing still standing there?

“I’m sorry,” he continued, rooted in place despite every fibre of his being telling him to bolt. It burst out of him almost, jumbled and tumbling, all frantic to make you understand. “My name- I heard you say my name and I thought… it sounded like you were hurt and I know you like to handle your injuries alone but it sounded bad and I thought you could be bleeding out or dying and I just couldn’t–”

You were wrapping gentle fingers around his wrists before he could talk himself breathless, into an early grave with the way his pulse was hammering beneath flushed skin. Your voice fell even softer, barely rising over the sound of the water that was still pelting against the tiles, as you told him, “Steven, calm down. Look at me, it’s okay.”

He wanted to resist, unwilling to face the weight of your disappointment, the shame that would only double tenfold when that harsh glare of yours undoubtedly pinned him with it, but he found himself compelled by a featherlight touch at his jaw, the arc of cheek, sweeping the damp curls from his eyes just as they fluttered open.

Steven gulped as his stare settled on you, closer than he'd expected you to be, now wrapped up in a thread-bare towel that hid only enough skin for you to be considered decent but had him sending a prayer of thanks for to any god that would listen anyway. He didn’t think he’d survive it otherwise.

Not with the way you were actually looking at him. Touching him.

He was already having trouble breathing properly, his stomach still flipping from the memory of you, your closeness to him now when your soft moans were still echoing around in his head.

Steven, Steven, Steven.

His heart had yet to return to its normal pace and as it stuttered and beat itself violently against the cage of his ribs, he wondered if it was possible to die from something like this. From the desire and longing trapped and blistering beneath his skin, a wicked hot thing that was trying to burn him from the inside out.

It certainly felt like he could.

Your expression grew anxious whilst you simply watched one another, gaze troubled and brow knit into a soft frown. Your lip drawn between your teeth in a way that made him have to swallow down the urge gently tug it free with his thumb, to soothe away the rawness with soft touches. An even softer kiss.

Gods, he was pathetic.

Even when he was expecting you to be angry at him, for that gentle calmness to drop any second to reveal disgust, he still couldn’t stop himself from thinking about touching you, kissing you. Loving on you. He wanted to shake himself, to rub away the ache in his chest that worsened as your lips parted and he braced himself for you to tell him you couldn’t be around him after this.

“It’s not you who should be apologising, Steven.” You told him instead, voice tinged with guilt, a hint of embarrassment. Nervous in a way he’d never seen before. And when your eyes dropped briefly to where your hands were still cradling his own you missed the way he blinked at you in stunned confusion.

“I shouldn’t have been doing that - thinking about you like that - definitely not when you could hear…shit- I’m so fucking sorry you heard it and saw what you did. I get it if you don’t feel comfortable around me and you need a break or something, fuck - is that something you would want? Do you want me to go?”

Steven didn’t even know what to say. His expression had morphed into something utterly dumbfounded. His brain screeching to a halt at your apology - your confession?

It was spinning around inside his skull like a carousel, all bright flashing light and the swelling tinkling of fairytale music. Because surely it couldn’t be real right? He’d not really heard what he thought he had, he’d not heard you admitting that you think about him.

Maybe he’d been knocked out during the fight and this was a dream? He almost found it easier to believe.

Except for the fact that in his dreams he didn’t have Marc’s voice in his head - seething with frustration. He wasn’t being yelled at to say something. Say anything. He wasn’t getting stressed out by the irate stream of demands mixing with his own rapidly firing thoughts until they all muddled into something that felt an awful lot like the oncoming of a migraine.

He wanted to snap at Marc to be quiet for just five bloody seconds but then he was raising his voice again - more worried this time - and it cut crystal clear through the rest of the noise. Sharp enough for Steven to finally understand what the other man had been desperately trying to snap his attention to.

‘Jesus fucking christ Steven, she’s going to leave! She thinks you don’t want her - SAY SOMETHING.”

And Marc was right. You had drawn away from him, dropped your hands from his cheeks and tucked them into your sides, arms crossed over your chest like you were shielding the vulnerable parts of yourself you’d only just worked up the courage to expose.

Curling into yourself in the face of what you perceived as rejection.

He watched in a throat-tight panic as you nodded solemnly and made to squeeze past him, reaching for the door that had swung back closed behind him from the force with which he had thrown it open.

It was the brush of you against him that startled him back to life - a smack of reality cracking across his bewildered face that told him you were about to walk out of that door, out of their shitty hotel room and straight out his life if he didn’t stop you.

Steven was whirling around before his mind could even register having told his legs to move. He caught at your wrist with a shaky hand , the touch of it feverish against your skin that had rapidly cooled once outside the heat of the shower - goosebumps rising beneath his fingertips despite the balmy air that swirled around them.

You turned, fingers still grazing the door handle, and looked at him, wide eyed and apprehensive, unwillingly hopeful, and it was enough to make the muscles in his throat unlock. Words bubbling up and past his lips before he could even consider if they were the right ones.

“Did you mean it?” He rasped. “ You think of me when you touch yourself?”

There was silence for a second, maybe two, and by the way you sucked in a breath - lips parting as you stared at him - he suspected the question had been the last thing you expected to be asked.

It was agony to stand there and wait and Steven tried his best not to let it show, tried not to breathe because every inhale was drenched in you.

The scent of your shampoo and your body wash and your breath fanning across his lips when he subconsciously leaned closer. The weight of his heart that wasn’t really his anymore, hadn’t been since he met you, sat on his tongue. Ready to topple along with the desperate plea he was fighting to keep clamped behind his teeth.

Please. Please tell me you think about me too - that you want me just as much as I want you.

And then, “I did,” you whispered, soft and hushed like you were worried if you spoke any louder it would ruin whatever was happening between you, “I do.”

He surged forward and kissed you then. Both of you colliding with the door with the force of it, his lips crashing against yours like the world would spin off its axis if he didn’t have his mouth on you. It was a little clumsy but it still made your breath catch in your throat, made your body melt into his and your hands fly to clutch at the slopes of his shoulders as your surprise dissolved into something hungrier, the sensation of his mouth moving over yours dragging you under.

It wasn’t a sweet, soft thing like Steven had always imagined kissing you would go, all romantic like pretty sunsets and doves flying, a choir singing in the background as he tenderly cradled your cheeks in his hands.

It was tongue and teeth, months of repressed yearning bursting free and swallowing him whole, demanding that he devoured in turn. Making everything a little messy, touched with desperation. Frantic.

He let you part his lips, let you flick your tongue, quick and dirty, against his own and lick the needy groan from his mouth that followed until he was breathless and his knees threatened to buckle. A hand dropping to your waist to palm at the curve of it, fisting tight at the cotton towel, and the other sliding from your cheek to grasp a handful of the hair at the back of your head. Both meant to keep you locked to him just as much as it was supposed to keep him grounded.

Steven felt greedy with it, braver than he’d ever been with every little moan that slipped from your lips to his for him to swallow down and when you finally pulled back an inch gasping for breath, lips parted and expression looking entirely kiss-drunk, he felt like he’d found heaven.

His field of reeds, in the way your eyes were shining.

The way your fingers trailed up his neck and tangled in his curls to keep him from straying too far.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, voice lovesick and bleeding awe, painting your mouth with a sparkling grin as he pressed each word to your lips when you tugged him back down to kiss him again. “More beautiful than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen.”

You sighed into him, the hand in his hair tilting his head so you could kiss him deeper, a little more demanding before your lips slipped to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, sliding down his throat to suck a bruise at the skin before dropping a sweet kiss over the mark that made his hips buck against you.

It had a groan tearing through Steven’s chest when you pressed back, all silky, steam-damp skin and barely any material between you that suddenly felt that much less with the way it was clinging to you both.

“Steven…please.” You breathed.

And gods, you sounded just as needy as he felt.

So he hitched your leg high up at his waist and rolled his hips a little harder, a little more deliberate, drawing back just enough that he could watch how your lashes fluttered and your mouth dropped open, trying his best to take note of the exact angle and pressure that made you keen so he could do it over and over again.

He could feel how wet you were, the bare heat of you soaking into his jeans, pressed tightly against where he was achingly hard beneath the denim and Steven felt himself twitch at every gorgeous sound that poured past your lips - at the way you had snuck you hand between your two bodies without him noticing to palm at the thick outline of his cock.

It made his jaw go slack from the pressure, brain fuzzy from the bolt of pleasure that skitted down his spine when you squeezed him just right and then he was curling himself over you, burying you into the door and mouthing sloppy kisses and obscene praise into the skin of your neck whilst he rocked his hips.

He forced himself to bite back a whine when you pushed him back an inch, extracting yourself from his grasp so you could stand before him properly, eyes glossy and a touch wild, all panting breaths as your fingers curled around the hem of his shirt and tugged.

“Need to feel more of you.”

And then you were yanking it over his head, throwing it somewhere to be forgotten about whilst you pressed your hands into the warmth of his chest and made a greedy noise of appreciation that threatened to make his heart burst, a groan rumbling in his throat in response when you dragged your nails ever so lightly across his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans.

His hands found yours then. Stopping them from popping the button beneath your fingertips, and when your eyes shot to his, the beginnings of the soft frown that shadowed them melting into something akin to surprise once you caught sight of him, he wondered if you could read the desperation that he was sure was plastered all over his face.

Because it wasn't that Steven wanted to stop that had him catching at you.

It was the utter assurance that if you got your hands on him he wouldn't last a fucking second that made his voice hoarse and his own hands tremble as he all but begged.

"Tell me more of what you think about… tell me what you want."

And Steven didn't think he'd ever forget the way you looked at him then, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, hungry. Lips kiss-swollen and parted as you sucked in a sharp breath. Looking so fucking sinful that it had him swallowing down a choked moan.

You looked wrecked by his words.

By him.

He was almost embarrassed by just how close the sight drove him. There was a swell of something unforgivingly hot behind his ribs, searing in his stomach and his veins, all liquid gold and white flame, and he couldn’t resist re-capturing your mouth in a kiss that echoed just how helplessly he was affected by it all.

You drew his hands up whilst his lips were busy curving over yours, pressing them to the place where the towel lay knotted against the warm flush of your chest and when he groaned at the implication, the way the material came that little bit looser at the slightest touch, you took advantage of his distraction to skim your mouth across his cheek and to the delicate curve of his ear.

“I want you to take it off, want you to touch me” you murmured, breath hitching when he obeyed with quick fingers, worn fabric slipping away in a soft rush the same way his own breath exited his lungs. “Please.” Added like it was possible he would even think of saying no, like his hands, large yet reverant, weren’t already exploring. Pulling shudders from your body with every light graze of his fingertips. “I think about it all the time.”

Steven was a goner. Utterly devoted to bending to every whim that you had, to acting out every thought that had popped into your head from whenever you had begun to want him until right then. He wanted to know it all.

How could he not be when you were reacting to him so beautifully?

Your fingers had left his to wander long ago so you could twist them into his hair instead. Using your hold to crush him into you further and kiss him breathless when he touched somewhere that made you arch, to tug just a little meanly at the soft strands when he lingered on his path to where you were apparently growing impatient for him, and by the time he was tracing the crease of your thighs you were both wound achingly tight, panting into each other’s mouths.

He matched your moan when he finally slid his fingers through your folds, throat tight and something like pride flaring deep in his chest at the soaked heat he found there. At the soft, broken noise you made when he pressed gentle circles over your clit.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered against your lips. “Tell me.”

Tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good. Tell me exactly how you picture it so I can give you everything you want.

Tell me, tell me tell me.

“Fuck, yes, more– please - don’t stop.” You rushed out, voice strained but he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t the prettiest Steven had ever heard it. Absolutely hypnotising and he was under its spell without question, ready to worship at your altar in any way you deemed fit.

He kissed you with heavy-lidded eyes and open-mouthed, lips catching at yours in the briefest bursts because he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the way your chest heaved as he slipped a finger inside you, a second.

The way your own stare glazed when you told him just how much pressure to use whilst he curled his fingers and had you choking on the words, clenching around him before you could even finish.

You were feverish in his arms, mewling and arching as he picked up the pace and Steven almost lost his head at the state of you, trying his hardest to not bite his lip bloody when every flex of your hips into his hand had it pressing against his own need. He allowed himself to rock into you just once and then hastily pulled back as the pleasure burned white-hot, sliding his thumb a little firmer over your clit when you squirmed and whined at the loss of him.

“I know, I know– m’sorry love.” He gasped, breathless, chest tight and voice shot. “You feel so fucking good– I can't–”

You would be the death of him, he was sure of it. His hands shook, fingers curling around the nape of your neck in an attempt to hide it, and there was this unfathomable want clawing at his insides so savagely that he could hardly move without the friction of his jeans threatening to send him over the edge.

Bloody hell, you had him so fucking desperate he could scarcely think.

You both trembled as his lips ghosted across your cheek, each breath hot in your ear, as his voice quivered. “What else– what else do you need from me?- I’ll give you anything you want, darling, please.”

He barely registered the knock of your head falling back against the door, the whisper of a curse slipping past your lips, because at his words you had clamped tight enough around the twist of his fingers to make him shudder. Lashes fluttering at the way your nails bit deep into the muscles of his shoulders as the slick sound you being fucked on his hand grew over the roar of the shower.

“I- I don’t- Steven, oh fuck.”

Maybe that’s what did it. The way you were so ready to fall apart for him, all pretty and messy and pleading something sinful for more, more, more. Maybe it was the way the evening light peeking in from the tiny window had begun to turn into shadows, hiding the way his cheekbones were swept with pink better than the clouds of steam ever could.

Or maybe it was the fact that every time his name dripped off your tongue it made him feel so fucking wanted that he was delirious with it, his heart full and shining golden as you peeled back each of those strings of black tar insecurities that had choked the beating flesh for far too long.

Whatever it was, there was suddenly a new found confidence that burned through his veins, one that took every dirty thought swirling in his head and made him prepared to do them all. To give you anything you wanted, regardless of whether you were actually capable of forming the words for yourself.

There was no missing the blaze of your stare caught on his lips as he spoke after all.

Oh.

“Do you want my mouth?” Steven asked hoarsely against your throat. “Is that something you've thought about - you want me to taste you?”

He barely waited for your desperate nod and then he was gone. Dropping to the floor and ignoring the flash of pain that the cold tile spears through his knees as he buried his face between your soaked thighs.

The first flick of his tongue made your breath catch. The second had you twisting your fingers in the silk of his curls. A third had you tugging at him hard enough that Steven whined into you, the fingers that were dug into the meat of your thighs slipping to your ass to press you to him tighter, his hips thrusting against nothing whilst you bucked against the searing heat of his mouth, utterly uninhibited.

The sight of it was maddening, it was divine.

He still didn't quite believe this wasn't a dream.

There was sweat beading at your hairline - glistening along the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts. He watched the way your free hand trailed the softest path to one of them and squeezed, felt the way your body reacted to the added sensation in the flutter of your walls around his fingers. Squeezing tighter, tighter, tighter, as he rubbed at the soft patch of tissue until your thighs quaked around his head and you grew liquid.

Voice thread-bare when you whimpered that you couldn't take much more, that you were oh so close and please don't stop.

He went to flame then. To desperation and insanity and burning, searing need to devour you whole and drink you down until he either drowned or you had nothing left to give.

And just like you begged him to, he didn't stop until you spasmed and gushed around his fingers. Didn't stop when the call of his name cracked and broke as your voice gave out whilst he licked you through the violent crest of your climax until it's dying breaths and your body fell slack into the door. Propped up between the paint-chipped wood and Steven’s flushed body shoved tight against your own.

He didn't stop until you jerked in his hold, gasping and pleading, your fingers eventually releasing their tense grip in his hair to slip down to his chin, tilting it. Away from your swollen cunt as he was made to look up at you.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed weakly, stunned gaze roving over every inch of him as you tried to catch your breath, and he wondered if he looked as wrecked as he felt before you. Wild haired and panting. On his knees with his eyes dazed and face coated glossy with you.

“I'm sorry,” he rasped, not bothering to even try and appear like he was very sorry at all, “you just taste better than I ever dreamed you would.”

Your eyes glazed a little at that, a dopey little smile playing at your mouth with it, as the first tendrils of hunger crept back into your expression alongside the tender amusement. “Fuck, Steven - who knew you were such a smooth talker?”

He laughed, a bright burst, cheeks kissed pink with the heat of your words and the slightly smug feeling of satisfaction that rumbled through his chest as he watched you glow with pleasure before ducking his head.

“I think that's all you, darling. I can't help it - not with the effect you have on me.” Steven mumbled, a soft and embarrassed grin tugging at his lips even whilst they trailed high over your shin to the crease behind your knee - rising up, up ,up to explore the warm skin of your inner thigh as his fingers swirled delicate little patterns at your ankle.

He couldn't stop touching you, couldn't feed the ache fast enough that came with needing to do it more than he already was.

And when his other hand swept the length of your leg to stroke over your belly you made a playful grab for it and brought it to your lips, eyes shining down at him at the way his lashes fluttered and his expression turned smitten before you tugged at him. Pulling him up your body until his jeans were scraping at your skin and his mouth was surrendering once more to yours in a syrup sweet kiss that burned deeper, more feverish, the longer it lasted.

Steven let you wind around him, let you urge him closer and closer until he was crushing you against the door at your back- wood slippery with condensation.

He let you roll your hips into his own and finally allowed himself to chase the pleasure with you as it renewed its intensity, let the thick outline of his cock rock against you until you were groaning into each other's mouths. Hands knotted in his hair and pearl-white teeth grazing the plush of his lip when you drew back to murmur.

“I want you inside me– want to make you feel good. Please, let me show you the effect you have on me.”

It sent a shock through him - ripped a low, guttural moan straight from his lungs that was followed by a heat-soaked curse that you took from him just as readily as you had everything else he'd given so far.

He didn't even blink before asking. “Can you say that again?”

You licked your lips and grinned, breath stuttering as he continued to move against you, fingers digging hard into the meat of your ass whilst you clung to him. “I need you inside me or I'm gonna lose my mind, it's all I've thought about for months - the way you'd feel- how you'd fuck me- oh gods.”

Another desperate noise. “Fucking hell. Again. Please.”

This time he didn't try to stop you when you reached for the last article of clothing keeping his body separated from yours.

There was the sharp clink of metal as you tore your hands from his hair to wrestle with his belt, your fingertips slipping over the leather whilst you fought to tug it free from the loops of his jeans before it fell to the tiled floor with a quiet thud and a clank.

And then you were pushing his jeans down just far enough until he was able to shakily kick them off. His heart in his mouth as he straightened, utterly naked before you apart from the shadows that slanted over his skin.

He felt a flicker - the ghosts of his insecurity passing over his face before he could blow them away like cobwebs- and prayed that you wouldn't notice. That you wouldn't mistake his hesitation for something else and even consider it to be directed at you.

But instead it seemed that you understood. Your hands found his jaw and you drew him into a kiss that ached. A lovely, bruising thing that had him melting into you, any insecurities fleeing so fucking far away that he could barely remember what they felt like.

You held him as tightly as you could and hummed in delight against his lips when he did the same and crushed you to his chest, the sound of it morphing into something needy as his cock throbbed, hot and smearing slick against your hip.

“I want you, Steven, I don't have the perfect words to explain just how much right now… just know that I need you so badly it hurts– it's hurt from the moment I met you and I don't think it'll ever stop no matter how much I might have you.”

Gods, you were threatening to undo him.

You had said you didn't have the perfect words and then given him everything he had dreamed of. Everything he thought he would die still wanting and never get to hear.

Steven swallowed hard, throat bobbing, and then he was bending down to lift you in his arms, the strength of a god thrumming through his muscles and large hands gripping beneath your thighs as you wound your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Clutching needily at him whilst he peppered your face with sweet, breathless kisses.

“You can have me whenever you want,” he pressed the words into your jaw, the damp warmth of your cheeks as he walked you into the shower, murmuring the next ones over and over until the rush of the water threatened to drown them out, “I’m yours.”

You went soft for him in the cradle of his arms at that. Stripped down to your barest bones in the face of his raw emotion and it made his heart flutter and thump all too fast behind his ribs when your voice trembled on a sigh his name, so sweet and lovely.

Beneath the luke-warm spray and with cold tile at your back, you drew him closer, nudged your nose tenderly against his own and touched him as he fought to commit it all to memory. The way he felt - burning with each and every stroke of hand, each part of him alight as you murmured beautiful affections against his mouth - at the intimacy of it all.

The image of you that he was sure not even in death could take from him when it eventually came - eyes bright as jewels, lips swollen with his kisses, all lush, silken skin that shone under the weak stream of light the evening had yet to swallow. Droplets of water clinging to your hair and lashes like crystals. You looked like something ethereal, something otherworldly and untouchable, and the privilege he felt in being the one to see you that way, to contribute to the way you were a gorgeous mess, felt like something holy.

It was almost too much and Steven hissed sharply through his teeth when you finally guided him into you, a whimper caught in his chest and eyes screwed shut as you lowered yourself down inch by inch until his hips met yours. He felt like he was on fire, the warmth that had been blooming in his gut morphing into something violent and unimaginable that had his body tensing as he struggled not to finish before he’d even started. Head falling against your shoulder just before he felt your lips brush against his temple, parting on a rushed exhale.

“Oh,” you breathed, “fuck, Steven.”

At least, it seemed that you were in just as bad shape as he was. He’d probably say something similar if he could remember how to speak.

But his mind had splintered. Shattered apart to fragments and the only thing he could focus on was the way you were surrounding him- all slick, tight heat and the overwhelming sensation that burst through his chest of all his lost pieces suddenly slotting into place, like you were a part of his soul he wasn’t aware he was missing until you were finally joined once more.

“I’m sorry, I just need a minute.” He stuttered, voice hoarse and eyes blown wide, endlessly dark when he peered up at you. Half adoring, half pleading. “I want to make it good for you, you just feel so–gods, you feel too good.”

He could only moan when you kissed him, a filthy sound that would have had his cheeks flushing scarlet had he not been so out of his mind. Could only stare at you like you were pure magic taken form - no god or pact needed for whatever it was running through your veins - as you threaded your fingers through his hair and whispered. “It’s okay, Steven, it’s okay. It’s already so good, christ–you feel amazing, just let go for me, I want to feel it.”

It made his desperation threaten to win over. Head spinning as he dragged himself back out of you before surging back in, tightening his grip on your ass and lifting you up higher so he could do it again and again and again. Each thrust sliding you further up the tiles and pulling a strangled noise from the back of your throat that he quickly stole with greedy lips moulded over your own.

It started slow, deliberate and devastating, and then turned faster. Needier and unrestrained. The sound of panting breaths and skin on skin rising above the dull roar of water pelting against the tiled floor. Open mouthed kisses that were forced to come to an end because all the oxygen felt like it had fled both of your lungs, punched out everytime you slammed yourself down to meet the frantic rolling of his hips.

Steven had never felt anything like it and it was dangerously close to annihilating him completely.

There were wicked bolts of something animalistic, a feral rush of desire, threatening to weaken his knees and you gasped in surprise, legs clenching tight at his waist, when he moved to hold you with just one arm banded around across your back as his other hand slammed against the wall for support.

It changed the angle that he speared into you with and with the next thrust that came you were sobbing for him, seizing up like he’d plunged into the heart of your pleasure and pierced it - letting it flow out to the farthest reaches of you until you were curling into the solid press of him against you. Fingers in his hair and teeth searing a mark into his shoulder.

“Steven,” you whimpered and fuck, you sounded just as overwhelmed by it as he felt. Shaking in his arms as the heat wrapping around you both grew and grew. “Steven, Steven, Steven.”

It made him choke on his tongue, eyes rolling back at the way you were clenching around him as his thrusts became deeper, greedier. His cock harder than it had ever been whilst you made a mess of his stomach and his thighs and Steven couldn’t get enough, He was so close to losing his mind, so close to devouring you entirely and begging you to ruin him because every sound you made, every sweet little uh,uh,uh that tumbled past your lips was unlocking something wild tucked deep inside him that he was helpless to rein back. That had him babbling nonsense, incoherent words that dripped down on you like scalding hot honey.

And then he latched his mouth to your nipple, relishing the way you jerked as he flicked his tongue and scraped his teeth across the peak until you mewled before trailing a path of fire up to your collar bones and then higher again to the tender skin of your throat. Sucking a kiss there that had you keening and shone like a bruise when he drew back to meet your burning stare.

“Touch yourself.” Steven begged, more than a little desperate because you were so tight around him and he was so fucking close. Stomach quivering and flooding with golden heat. “Want you to show me– want to see how you touched yourself all those times you thought about this.”

You nodded slowly as if dazed by the request, lips parted and eyes gleaming dark. But you were quick to comply. Quick to thrust a shaky hand down to where he was fucking up into you, to the crest of your sex where you were soaked and scorching like a furnace, and once you were there, your fingers drew quick, sloppy circles to your clit that had you throwing your head back with a loud cry of his name whilst he watched, lust drunk and in awe.

“Shit, shit shit.” Each word that bubbled its way up your throat was ragged, edging on breathless as your back arched like a bow. “Steven, oh my god, I’m gonna–”

He surged up before you could finish, hand tearing away from the wall to tangle itself in your wet hair so he could drag your mouth to his and kiss you as you came. Holding you fiercely in place and groaning against your lips, swallowing down your own noises whilst your cunt fluttered around him, convulsing over and over until his movements grew frantic and messy. Warmth pulsing brightly in his groin and his stomach and his too tight chest.

It was too much - he was bordering on delirious. Everything was hot and wet and he was wound so tight that any moment it felt like he’d explode. Burst apart like confetti. It took every ounce of strength he had to stave off his own release so he could extend yours by letting the frantic rhythm of his snapping thrusts morph into a slow, intense grind that stole the breath from your chest and made it feel like he was melding himself to your body. Like you were burying into each other so deep that you would never truly be able to remove the imprint of the other afterwards.

There was a flash of pain from your nails scratching down his scalp and across the broad sweep of his shoulders, teeth scoring the softness of his bottom lip whilst shudders wracked your frame and it startled him, the low, starving noise it drew from his mouth. Knocked him flat when you drew the stinging flesh into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the marks you had left behind, and began to raise and lower yourself up and down on his cock that little bit faster despite the way he could feel the muscles of your thighs trembling around his waist.

And when you cupped his cheeks, eyes burning with a wicked hunger whilst you whispered against his mouth, Steven was utterly lost.

“C’mon Steven, let go,” you encouraged him, voice wrecked. Desperate. “Want you to come for me, I want to feel it, please.”

He fell apart for you then, crashed into bliss with his arms winding achingly tight around you as his hips stuttered and then came to an almost stop, twitching desperately and fused unyieldingly to your own. His vision going dark and your name like a prayer that he gasped into your skin over and over.

And when it all eventually calmed, the crashing of his heart beat against his ribs and your chaotic breaths, the exhaustion had him almost falling to the shower floor with you. Both of you slipping down the wall just an inch or two before he managed to right himself on weak legs to the sound of your startled laugh.

It wasn’t until he had set you down and moved to clean you up, massaging with gentle hands and tender sweeping kisses all the places that he’d gripped so tightly, the places where you were starting to bare his marks that had him frowning apologetically, that it finally hit him that the shower was running cold. You were both being pelted with what felt like tiny shards of ice against your rapidly cooling skin and you snorted a laugh when he yelped in shock and immediately dragged you out of there, eyeing him with a sticky-sweet kind of affection as he snatched the thickest towel he could kind and wrapped it around you before pulling you close in an attempt to warm you up.

The way you were looking up at him was making his chest ache, filling his lungs up with an adoring kind of wonder, the kind that sprouted wildflowers and soft vines that breached through all his organs to wrap around his ribs. Suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you.

It made it impossible for him not to ask. “Can I kiss you?”

And if he thought that you would laugh at him considering everything that had just happened, that only moments ago he’d been buried inside you, then he was delighted to be proven wrong. Because you were beaming at him the second the question rushed past his lips, eyes sparkling in the near dark of the tiny, damp bathroom.

“Please.”

So he kissed you like he’d always wanted to the first time, slipping his fingers through the wet tangle of your hair to cradle your head whilst his lips pressed sweetly and almost shy against your own. It unfurled like it held its own magic, the type that could stop time and make him feel like he was floating, tingles rushing all through his body until he was lightheaded and needed to draw back before he lost his breath to the irresistible pull of it all.

You just stood leaning into one another for a while, foreheads resting together, noses nudging each other lazily alongside the occasional soft brush of lips. And then you were wrapping him up in a towel of his own and leading him to the bed, using an extra towel to carefully dry him with a reverence that had his heart flip flopping in his chest and a blush rise high on his cheeks. He melted when you kissed him, little butterfly presses to his arms and chest before you pulled a clean sweater over his head, his thighs and his hips when he lifted them for you to pull his sweatpants on.

And once Steven had returned the favour, he was drawing you to him in the middle of the bed, your back to his chest and the food that had long gone cold balanced precariously on the blanket pooled around you both. He fed you bites of chorizo and feta fries, coated in herbs and sprinkled with pomegranate, whilst an old movie played and when those three words fell from his lips, without thought and as easy as breathing, Stevens was no longer afraid.

No longer felt in over his head.

He murmured against your hair. “I love you.” And swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat when you turned and smiled, your fingers touching his face like he was something precious you had spent a lifetime yearning for before giving him the answer to a question he’d always thought he’d have to ignore for the rest of his life to save his own heart.

“I love you too.”

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut #steven grant imagine #steven grant fanfic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction

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redeyerhaenyra · 8 months

Note

Hey, its ya girl, ominoose. Honoured to be here on opening night.

I would like to request Jake Lockley, Blue Jones and Basil Stitt with a curvy/chubby reader please! XOXOXO

Jake, Blue, Basil, with a curvy reader

Summary: Some headcanons for Jake, Blue, and Basil with a curvalicious reader

Warnings: Masturbation(male), possessiveness, unhealthy relationships in Basil's section, recording, thigh fucking, dollification(?)in Blue's section, a small bit of titty worship if you squint

Notes: MUSHI omg, yes yes yes 1000% yes, autistic bisexual curvy oscar isaac lovers RISSSEEE- I kinda got carried away with Basil's section hehehe but I hope you enjoy nonetheless :)

Jake Lockley

OK so if there's one thing we know about Jake, he is the opposite of shy, especially when it comes to his affections for you

Man lives and breathes to just look at you

The bastard will fucking pout if you're going out and you don't wear tight clothes

"But, hermosa, I wanna show you off, you're so hot. Everybody wishes they were you, prometo."

He's so proud you're his, there is nothing about you he doesn't love. Like I said earlier, he just likes to look at you.

All the curves and bumps, your soft tummy, your plush thighs, he can't get enough.

You will be sitting in his lap most of the time and this is non negotiable

It's half a sex thing for him and half that you're basically his plushie that he likes to cuddle, just having you sit pretty on his lap, all warm and squishy, makes him feel better

I think he'd definitely be into thigh fucking like c'mon now it's obvious

Feeling and seeing his dick between your squishy thighs just makes him go feral

I've said it before I'll say it again he fucking lives for making Marc and Steven jealous and recording himself fucking your thighs on Steven's phone for the poor guy to find later is just one of the many ways he does that

He talks alot too, just to rub it in further

"Guau, qué chica tan bonita. Hmm? You're so beautiful aren't you, baby? So perfect and squishy for me, I bet Marc and Steven wish they were here right now, huh? Don't you agree? Yeah, I bet you do."

Blue Jones

Oh no

If you thought Jake was bad you have a whole nother thing coming

Blue will PERSONALLY make sure all the costumes you wear on stage highlight just how curvy and plush you are.

But no one else is allowed to touch you

Oh no, that right's reserved for him and him alone

Tbh even when you're not performing, he'll want you to be wearing tight fitting shirts so he can stare at your boobies as you go about your day

Yeah he's a tit guy, don't get me wrong he loves all parts of your body but titties just do it for him

Him and Jake are very similar tbh, he also likes to show you off.

When high rollers are in the club you'll be sitting on his lap and no one else's

You're his doll, toy, barbie even

He likes to dress you up and play with you ;)

I'm serious he will pick out outfits for only him to see you in, dress you up in them, sit you on his lap and brush your hair

Like I said you're his toy, his stress ball, even

Just squeezing you will calm him down, any part of you, it's almost grounding to him

He talks to you in these moments, but it's just sort of general babbling about how shit his day was, and all you have to do is sit in his lap and let him nuzzle your breasts

"You're so good to me, bunny. I don't deserve you, do I? No matter what I do you're always here.. always so soft for me.."

Basil Stitt

Ah, everyone's favorite recluse

Look at the way this man lives and tell me he's not a porn addict please

YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT

So we've established that he's a greasy little basement dweller who watches porn on the regular

And we all know that most mainstream porn showcases sort of a singular body type (no hate to my skinny ladies btw ily mwah mwah)

Like it never occurred to him that he might find chubby ladies attractive

So when you, his new neighbour, moving into the apartment across the hall from him, knock on his door to say hi with the most wonderful tight leggings on he basically dies on the spot

The way your thighs looked so squishy and plush- he just wanted to grab them and sink his teeth into them

He tried to end the conversation as quickly as possible because he knew he would've ended up moaning out loud at any point

And then you turn around to walk away AND HE SEES YOUR ASS he's dead he's so dead

The next time he sees you, you're coming back from a night out, clearly a little tipsy, and wearing the shortest, tightest black dress he's ever seen, he dies a second time

His face is pressed up agaisnt the peephole in his door so he can watch you

You drop your keys at one point and bend over to pick them up and he basically cums in his pants untouched

Groaning and falling to his knees as his now softening dick rubs against the wet patch in his jeans

He makes it a point to watch you whenever he can now

He learns your schedule off by heart, it becomes his schedule. Probably has alarms set for it on his phone

Like "Oh , it's 9AM, time to watch my neighbour leave for work." "Oh its 8:30 time to watch her come home."

He really desperately wants to talk to you more but the poor guy is just so insecure :(

This cycle continues for a while.. until one fateful day, you come back from your weekly night out, in the same tight black dress that he loves so much on you... but this time... you're accompanied by a man

The both of your are similarly a little drunk, giggling and fumbling over the keys to your apartment

What? What's this? A friend, brother... partner? Basil silently begs you from behind the door to not let him into your apartment but oh god that's exactly what you do

He feels the tears running down his face before he realises he's crying, pleading for you to stop from behind his door.

His pleads turn to shouts as you close the door, sniffling and crying

Definitely fucks up his apartment again in his anguish

And when he's done that he angrily jerks off, to get back at you? He's not sure. He doesn't even know if you're having sex with the guy, or if it's just a friend you're letting crash at your place, but he's so obsessed with you he can't imagine it being any other reason that you would "betray" him like that

His poor cock is red and sore and he realises he shouldn't have tugged on it so hard 🥺 poor baby

He spends the next day crying in bed, it feels like you've dumped him when you're both barely more than acquaintances but by this point he's formed a sort of parasocial relationship with you, and your soft tummy, that he can't get over the prospect of you even looking at other men

And so, it's decided. He's going to go, knock on your door, and talk to you.... tomorrow. One day. He will do it! Just.. not today.

#blue jones #blue jones sucker punch #blue jones x reader #blue jones smut #mushi ♡#jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley moonknight #basil stitt #lightning face #basil stitt x reader #basil stitt smut

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fettuccin-e · 1 year

Note

I can’t stop thinking about Steven and Marc in oversized jumpers and how cozy they look (even tho they’re in a crisis at the time 😅) so requesting a nsfw fic about one/all of the moon boys finding the reader wearing their clothes and it does something to them

hi anon omg this request is so old and i am so sorry that I'm just getting to this!! this is so fun and YES the way marc spector would go fuckin FERAL over his S/O smelling like him,, like he's so possessive i love him sm!! i hope the smut makes up for my lateness. love u!!!

A Soft Ray of Sunlight

Tags: Marc Spector x Reader, fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl, fuck them kids), kitchen sex lol, really light spit kink, possessive!Marc (w/c: 1.7K)

You’re in the kitchen when he sees you from the hallway, cooking dinner and humming to yourself as you swirl a sauce around in a pan.

Marc is used to you wearing Steven’s jumpers; you always claim that Steven always manages to find the softest ones, even though you have several others just like them.

But this one, the jumper adorning your pretty body, the bottom of it just brushing the tops of your thighs, it’s his. Marc’s. It’s one he’s had for years, the cuffs of the sleeves starting to fray and a coffee stain on the side that he can’t manage to get out. You’re always beautiful, and that sweater looks better on you than it’s ever looked on him.

And it’s all you’re wearing.

The sweater is big on you, but definitely not big enough to only be worn with panties, which is exactly what you’re doing. If you were to bend over, god, Marc would see everything.

His legs move of their own accord, the pull of you like gravity, endlessly drawing him in. His hands slide gently over your waist when he reaches you, and you jump slightly, pulled out of your reverie.

“Shit, Marc, you scared me,” you giggle, leaning your head back against his chest. His strong arms curl around your middle, melding you to him as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“No you’re not,” you whisper, turning in his arms to press your chest against his and kiss him softly. “You are a terrible liar, Marc Spector.”

He moans softly into your mouth, clutching at your hips. Has this sweater always been this soft? It doesn’t feel nearly as good on him as it does on your skin, smelling like a mixture of you and him, intoxicating him. He never wants to wash it again, wants to keep it smelling like you forever.

You smile into his mouth. “Something got you worked up, babe?”

Marc groans again, head swimming with your taste, your smell, the feel of you under his fingers. “You just,” he rasps, pressing kisses to your mouth between words, “God, you’re so pretty, baby. When- when did you take this sweater?”

You make a noise of understanding. “This morning, fresh out of the dryer. Just looked too comfy to fold.” You lean away from his mouth, chuckling when he whines softly. “Why? Do you want it back?” You know he doesn’t, but you still like to see him squirm.

You’re one of the few people in this world to break down Marc Spector’s stoic nature, and you’ve never been known to use your powers over him for strictly good things. Getting him desperate is just too fun.

“Please no,” he mutters, moving from your mouth to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck. “You look way better in it than I do.”

“Not possible,” you whisper, winding your hands into his hair to tug him back to your mouth. You can feel the outline of his cock through his sweatpants, pressing into your hip. You untangle a hand from his hair to palm the bulge, relishing in the wet gasp that rips out of Marc’s throat. “Happy to see me, Spector?”

“When you look like this, how could I not be?”

You lick feverishly into Marc’s mouth as he walks you backward, crowding you into the kitchen counter. His thick fingers dig into your hips, likely going to leave light bruises. “You know,” you whisper, pulling away from his mouth to drag a finger down his chest, teasing. “I’m still wet from last night.”

Marc chokes on a breath. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Not to mention that I’m soaked whenever I see you.” You watch Marc’s mouth drop open a little bit, his pupils blown wide with arousal. “But you boys fucked me so good last night. I’m still dripping,” you lean in further, your lips brushing against his ear, “gaping for you.”

Marc groans loud, the sound ripped violently from his chest. He leans down, grabbing the backs of your thighs in his big hands to lift you until you’re sitting on the counter, your legs rising to wrap around his waist. “God, baby,” he mutters. “You wanna kill me?”

“Not kill you, just drive you crazy.”

“Mission fucking accomplished, sweetheart.” He licks into your mouth all over again, pressing himself into you. The position is perfect; from this height, his cock presses so perfectly against your pussy, the both of you only separated by your pesky clothing.

You whine into him, your hands moving down to push at his sweatpants till they’re around his thighs, freeing his aching cock. You wrap your hand around him to give him a long stroke, and he breaks from your lips to gasp, his eyes clenched shut.

“You gonna fuck me, Marc?” you murmur, pumping him slowly. “Make me drip even more?”

“Can I, baby?” he whines, and you answer him by licking into his mouth all over again, letting go of his cock to reach down and pull your panties down your hips. Marc grabs them as you work them down the fat of your thighs, tugging them roughly over your knees and letting them fall carelessly to the floor.

Then you both are colliding, an endless pull between you, never close enough. You grab at Marc’s cock again, sticky and throbbing, guiding the tip of him to your entrance. You weren’t lying; your boys had all come out to fuck within an inch of your life just the night before, leaving you still gaping and still leaking their cum. Used.

Marc has an iron-clad grip on your thighs, holding you steady as he presses in, reaching so deep it’s like you can feel him in your fucking stomach, knocking the breath out of your lungs. “Marc, Marc,” you whine, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and digging your nails into his broad back.

“Shit, baby.” He pulls out just a bit before rutting back in, and you choke on a moan. “You’re so fucking tight. How are you still,” he ruts into you again, and again, “so fucking tight?”

You can barely acknowledge his words, your brows furrowed as you concentrate on the stretch of him in your cunt, mumbling “s’big, Marc. So fucking big in me, gonna break me apart baby.”

An almost pained sound erupts from Marc’s throat, and suddenly he’s fucking into you like a man possessed, one hand traveling to the small of your back, snaking under the sweater to get to your heated skin, while the other travels up into your hair. He grabs a handful of it in a fist and yanks your head back from his neck, forcing you to look into his face, and fuck, Marc looks like an animal. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed, and his pupils are blown wide, intoxicated by the feel of you.

You can’t imagine how you must look, little grunts escaping your throat with every one of Marc’s thrusts into your needy pussy, your eyes shiny with tears. It’s so good, the stretch of his heavy cock, bullying into you just right. And then Marc shifts his hips just barely.

You shout wetly, jerking so hard you would have fallen off the table if not for Marc’s strong body pressed against yours, his hand pressed firm against your back. And he has the audacity to chuckle, like the bastard he is.

“Oh baby,” he coos, fucking into you hard at the very same angle, and your thighs are trembling, overwhelmed tears rolling down your cheeks. “That's the spot, pretty girl? Feeling good?”

You barely have the words to describe how amazing he feels, his fat cock pushing hard against your g-spot, unrelenting. “It’s so, it’s so good, Marc. Oh god, oh my fucking god.”

“Shit, taking it so good. So goddamn beautiful like this.” Your body bounces with every one of his thrusts, the hand he has in your hair keeping you from bumping your head into the cupboard behind you. He tugs your face towards him.

“Open.”

Your mouth drops open, almost unconsciously, and Marc spits into your sticky mouth. He groans like he’s dying when you swallow, unthinking and so fucking dumb on his cock that it’s got him lightheaded.

“Good girl,” he groans, and you whine in the back of your throat at the praise. Every thrust into your sensitive pussy feels like lightning rocketing up your spine, and your legs raise higher around Marc’s hips, your heels digging into his ass, urging him in again and again.

“Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, Marc,” you whisper, your throat tight and achy. “Please, please, please,” you don’t really know what you’re begging for, not really, but Marc answers your pleas anyway.

“Right behind you baby, c’mon, c’mon,” Marc grunts, rutting into you feverishly. “Gotta feel this pretty pussy make a mess around my cock.”

You press yourself into his neck again as you cum, wetting his shoulder with tears as you gasp wetly, your body shuddering uncontrollably. Marc is murmuring little praises into your hair as he finally presses his hips as far as he can go, cock pulsing and filling you with his cum. “So good, baby, y’did so good for me. Looking so pretty for me, sweetheart, how did I manage to land you?”

You answer him with a chaste kiss, tilting your head up from his neck to meet his lips. You cling to each other, unwilling to let go while you will your heartbeats to beat slower, in time with one another.

Marc thinks that he could bask in this moment forever, with you in his arms, warm and soft against him. He hasn’t had a lot of softness in his life. Maybe you’re the softest thing in the world.

Then you giggle softly under his chin, and it sounds like sunlight. He tilts his head down to meet your eyes, mirroring your blinding smile.

“Damn, if I knew that wearing your sweaters would make you fuck me like that, I’d never take them off,” you whisper, unwilling to interrupt the unshakeable sense of peace that fills the kitchen.

“Baby, if you did that, we’d never make it out of the apartment.”

#marc spector loml #i find him a lot easier to write than steven for some odd reason #its probably bc hes sad and tortured #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #idk why it takes me so long to write stuff #no writing stamina gang rise up

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nicoline1998enilocin · 9 months

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Living our 'perfect' life | Part 2

PAIRING | Husband!Loki Laufeyson x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.4K

SUMMARY | Loki created a fake reality to be back with you, and he is absolutely delighted to have you back by his side. SHIELD isn't all that happy with his shenanigans, and when you find out about his plans too, you try to convince him to let you go for good. He doesn't take this lightly and when he loses you again, he completely spirals out of control as he tracks down the Darkhold to destroy anything and everything he possibly can.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Pregnancy & birth (non-explicit), slight gaslighting, an emotional goodbye, pretty major angst, little bits of fluff, Dark!Loki near the end.

A/N | This is part 2 of the request from @glitteryeggalmondherring, and it is important that you have read that one before reading this, otherwise this part won't make as much sense. Thank you for your amazing request and I'm hoping I could do it the justice it deserves! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Part 1

Loki couldn't possibly be happier than he is at this very moment. He got married to the love of his life, and now you're pregnant with two of his babies. When you found out that you're expecting twin boys it was a bit of a shock at first, but now the two of you are happier than you ever thought possible. ''So, what are we going to name them?'' you ask them as the two of you are walking through a store filled with all the baby stuff you could even dream of and more. ''I was thinking of giving them human names, so they would have that in common with you. Their last names are automatically going to be 'Lokison', so that way we have the best of both worlds!'' he says and you nod.

''Makes sense, but that doesn't answer my question,'' you said with a soft giggle. Loki could never get enough of hearing that, and he softly squeezed the hand he was holding as a sign of his love. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he pulls you in for a little kiss, but your belly is in the way so it isn't as easy anymore. You're almost 7 months pregnant at this point, and seeing how they're two big guys, you're stretched pretty far already and kisses become less easy, but that doesn't mean the two of you don't kiss anymore. Oh no, ever since you got pregnant, Loki has gone almost feral in the bedroom and has to touch you whenever he can, wherever he can.

''What about Steven and James?'' you say, and Loki thinks about it. ''Are you wanting to name our kids after Captain America and the Winter Soldier?'' Loki says, and your face immediately turns sour. ''Why wouldn't I name the boys after them? The two of them are heroes and not to mention, they were some of my best friends! Besides, Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore when I met him,'' you pout, and Loki gives in. ''Okay, fine. We can name them after Steve and Bucky,'' he sighs because he knows he won't win this war.

The two of you picked out everything you needed for the nursery and took it home, wanting to get started sooner rather than later. When you were sitting in the rocking chair Loki got you as soon as the two of you found out you were pregnant, someone knocked on the door. ''I'll get it, you can stay here and sit pretty, darling,'' he says and you smile happily, not having to get onto your feet is an absolute blessing right now. When Loki opened the door he pretty much tried to shut it right away when he saw who was in front of it. Nick Fury was standing there with 2 SHIELD Agents, and he had a slight feeling about where this was going. It wouldn't end well in whatever way he would spin it, so he would very much like all three of them to leave them alone.

''Oh I don't think so, Laufeyson,'' Fury said when he tried to shut the door in his face again, without luck. ''We're here to talk, and if you just cooperate everything will be fine, and there won't be any more people hurt than you have so far,'' he says in a stern tone. Loki decided to just make a run for it and quickly turned around and upstairs, to where you were sitting in the nursery. All he cares about is you, and your twins of course. The three men are behind him but Loki is quick enough, shutting the door with his magic and sealing it so they can't get in. He grabs you and holds you close, consoling you as you sob softly, not sure what's happening but scared nevertheless.

They keep banging on the door and trying to barge it down, but Loki's magic is strong enough to keep it upright, and he just holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire time to calm you down. After about an hour and a half the three men go away and leave the two of you alone, but they're coming back with a lot more force later. Right now the two of you are just together, and you're perfectly content with that. ''Loki, why were those men trying to beat down our door...?'' You ask him, but he doesn't want to tell you.

''No reason darling, I've got everything under control right now. It's nothing you have to worry your pretty head about,'' he says, giving you soft kisses on your forehead. The fact that you feel cold to the touch is something Loki doesn't mind, he hasn't ever since he got you back. All he cares about is you, and the fact that he finally gets to live the life you have fantasized about countless times. “I love you, darling, as long as we’re together everything is going to be okay,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Love you too,” you sigh into his chest, and your eyes are slowly falling shut from exhaustion.

Fury made true to his promise and came back again a few times, each time with no luck, but it was starting to wear you out at this point, especially with the way your pregnancy was progressing. Carrying one baby was already difficult, but you’re carrying double the amount of babies, so you also suffer from double the exhaustion. At this point, you’re about 7 months pregnant and you’re on complete bedrest, with Loki doting on your every need. He doesn’t mind because he loves taking care of you in every single way, so this comes naturally to him. However, when you wake up in the middle of the night with the world's worst cramping, Loki jolts awake, worry etched into his features.

“L-Loki, please! I think I’m in labor!” You pant and in an instant he’s on your side of the bed, ready to go to the hospital. “It’s okay darling, you and the boys are doing so well for me,” he says as he jumps into some clothing and helps you into a flowy dress before grabbing your hospital bag, right now you’re glad you packed that a while ago so it was ready to go in case your boys came early. In no time you’re in the car and on the way to the hospital, where you are immediately checked into the labor & delivery ward. It is a smooth labor - it’s Loki’s perfect world after all, and he doesn’t want you to be in pain or uncomfortable.

A few hours later you’re both holding one of your beautiful sons in your arms, and they are almost replicas of Loki. They both have jet-black hair, pale skin, and those gorgeous blue eyes that melt your heart every single time you look into them. And now you’re heart will melt three times as fast when you’re looking into them. “They’re beautiful,” you sigh and Loki agrees. “They are, and they’re ours,” he says with a big smile on his face. You have to stay in the hospital for a few days but once you’re allowed to go home, you couldn’t be happier. You have the love of your life and two beautiful sons. Life is pretty fucking perfect at this point.

But that feeling won’t last, however. SHIELD found out that Loki has created children in his reality, and it throws the entire universe out of whack. Not only should the reality not exist, the boys should never have been born either. When they have been home for less than a month, SHIELD is breaking down the door, but much to their chagrin, no one is home. Loki took you and the boys on ‘vacation’, or that is what he told you, at least. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you weren’t complaining because the four of you were very happy in your slice of heaven for the time being.

~ A few months later ~

The boys are growing like crazy, and enjoying every little bit of attention they can get, but you're getting increasingly suspicious nowadays. You've noticed that something is off about Loki, but you can't quite place your finger on why exactly, so you finally decide to bring it up to him. ''Loki, I know this might sound crazy, but why are Steven and James the only kids in Westview? I haven't seen any in all the time I've got you back...'' you say with uncertainty laced in your voice. ''You must be mistaken, dollface, they're all just sleeping right now! I think you've been so busy with our angels that you just don't notice them,'' he says, trying to sweet talk you out of knowing the truth, finding out about what he has done.

Your suspicion doesn't waver, however, and you bring it up more often, each time hearing the same excuse, and you're feeling like something must be wrong with you. Something must be wrong in your brain or the way you see the world because you trust Loki... right? Finally, every single piece falls into place when Fury and his men come by again, but this time you happen to be in the kitchen, and you can overhear their conversation. ''...asking for the last time, Laufeyson. Stop this or we will make you stop it!'' is all you heard and your suspicions were confirmed. This isn't real, you aren't alive and your boys never really existed. It is all a twisted reality Loki made up when he lost you.

She can't take it any longer and steps into the hallway where Loki is talking to Fury. ''Loki, you should listen to them. What you did isn't healthy for any of us, but mostly not for you,'' you start as you take his face in your hands, cupping them softly as you look into his eyes. ''Please, I need you to listen to these men, they only want what's best for you,'' you plead, but Loki doesn't want to hear any of it. He shakes his head slightly as tears roll down his face. ''Please, don't make me do this, Y/N, I can't go through this again,'' he says as he pulls you into a hug, holding you tight against his chest.

''I know you can, Loki. Because I promise I will find you in the next life, and every life after that one. We will always be together, but we can't be together like this. I'm not real, your boys aren't real, and this isn't healthy for you. Loki, it hurts me to say this to you, but you have to let me go. You are stronger than you think, but you're causing everyone around you so much pain,'' you tell him, now softly crying too. At least now you get to say goodbye to him, unlike the last time, when you were ripped out of life so suddenly during the war against Thanos. ''These months we shared were nothing short of perfect, but it has to end. I'm sorry to tell you, but it does,'' you say, and Loki squeezes his eyes shut to keep himself from crying again.

''I can't, darling, I really can't lose you-'' he says again, but you interrupt him. ''YES, you can! You are way stronger than you give yourself credit for! But at least now you get to say goodbye to me. This time I won't be taken from you like last time,'' you tell him and in less than a second your lips found his, giving him a soft and tender kiss. Your goodbye kiss. The last one you'll ever share, and as much as it breaks your heart to see him like this, you know it's for the best that he lets you go. ''You can say goodbye to the boys too if you want. They love you so much,'' you say as you pick both of them up. When he hears the little giggles coming from them he completely breaks.

He falls onto his knees in defeat, feeling like he lost everything all over again. ''I'm so sorry for every bit of pain I've ever caused you, and I wish I could take it all back,'' Loki sobs, tears staining your cheeks now too. ''I love you so much, Y/N, and even though it will hurt me more than anything, I will do it for you,'' he says, and slowly his magic starts to weaken, and the reality he created around all of you fades away. ''We love you, Loki, and I promise we will go and find you in every single lifetime after this time,'' is the last thing you say as Loki watches you, Steven, and James fade into nothing too. Sobbing uncontrollably, he whispers ''I will always love you, darling. In every lifetime, I will find you,''. It's the last thing he says before he gets taken away by Fury and his men.

~ 10 years later ~

Living without you again was absolute hell for Loki, and he changed completely. Where he used to be a loveable goofball, he has turned into the complete opposite, wreaking complete havoc wherever he goes. He has been on the run for a few years and is on the hunt for the Darkhold, which proved to be harder than he thought. He never got over the fact that he lost you again, and his mental health also rapidly declined. Falling into a deep depression and trying to end it multiple times, all without success, has led them to where he is now. Outside an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere, supposedly the place where the Darkhold is being housed.

He walks in and much to his surprise, the leads weren't wrong. There it lies in front of him, the book he has been desperately searching for, ready to be taken and used. He picks it up and lets out a maniacal laugh at the feeling of it. Finally, he can create a new reality where he is the leader, where he will have you and his sons, and where no one will ever try and stop him. With this book, he knows he's stronger than anyone in the universe, and he can't wait to get started. It doesn't take him long to create another reality, and there you are, right back by his side. The boys are on either of your sides, one next to you and one next to Loki. ''Welcome home, darling. I missed you,'' is all he says before taking your hand and walking into your new reality. Together.

#loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki laufeyson request #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson angst #loki laufeyson fluff #loki #loki fanfiction #loki request #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki angst #loki fluff

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broodybuck · 1 month

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Title: Here to Serve

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, historical au, top Steve, bottom Bucky, master/servant, power imbalance, servant Bucky, master Steve, dubious consent

[ao3 link]

The feeling is feral. That's the best way Bucky can describe it. He knows a lot of others might frown upon it because he works for Sir Steven Rogers. But he can't help the immense pleasure he receives from satisfying his master in this way.

Bucky can hardly remember what it was like before the routine of resting on his knees, ass up, in the master bedroom waiting for the man of the house to enter the room and slide inside of him. That's how it goes now, every night, 5:25 pm sharp. Sir Steven has always been a timely man and because of that Bucky knows exactly when to start prepping himself to perfectly time his master's arrival.

They don't speak during it. It all evolved from an innocent timeline of events. Sir Steven always returned home stressed, every muscle filled with tension until one night his master requested a massage. It stayed innocent for a while, Bucky working oil into the man's shoulders, rubbing out the tightness. Bucky wouldn't admit even then how much he found that small task enjoyable.

From there, it progressed until they found themselves here. Bucky wordlessly opening himself up for the man, unabashedly, each and every night. The only sounds that fill the room are low grunts from Sir Steven, soft whines from Bucky, and the slick slapping sound of Sir Steven's bare skin against the younger's ass cheeks.

Tonight, Bucky is already face down in the pillow when he hears the front door close. He gets so excited sometimes — actually, most times — and this evening, he was ready ten minutes early, squirming needily on the bed all by his lonesome.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs makes Bucky shiver in anticipation. Then the bedroom door opens and shuts. The ruffling of clothes signals Sir Steven's pants coming off. The dip of the bed alerts Bucky to his master lining up behind him. Then the head of his cock presses against the rim, once, twice, then he pushes inside down to the root and sighs satisfied. God, Bucky loves that sound. Loves knowing he's serving his master in the most intimate way possible at the same time he's experiencing the wonderful feeling of being filled.

Bucky lets out a shaky breath as Sir Steven grabs his waist and pushes them both forward. The man pulls back and begins with a snap of his hips, fucking Bucky effortlessly, seamlessly, in the same pace he always does.

Sir Steven is a man of routine and order. And so, he likes everything to be precise, Bucky has learned. He likes to do things the same way. Don't mess with a good thing, he once said casually in his bath.

Bucky doesn't mind. Doesn't mind, at all, the monotony of the practice if it means being fucked by this man. Initially, Bucky didn't expect to be so fulfilled by it but he's just as dependent on it now.

Each night he readies himself, he gets a sudden fear that Sir Steven might not return home exactly on time. Bucky couldn't imagine waiting another second for this. Or, god forbid, Sir Steven decides one day he doesn't want this anymore. That Bucky's not a suitable enough hole for him to destress. God, Bucky can't think about that. He does his work all day and at night he waits for his reward. So far, he's gotten it. Every night. It's been precisely 86 days, Bucky has counted. He never wants it to end.

The only minor thing Bucky would wish for is eye contact. How nice would that be to stare into the older man's pure blue eyes? See that lust and fire burning in them. Watch that thick cock of his as he shoves it inside him. God, it'd be heavenly but Bucky could never ask. It would be shameful for Sir Steven to look at a servant that intently. To acknowledge, even just in his gaze, the pleasure he's allowing.

Bucky also wouldn't ask for words but sometimes he daydreams about Sir Steven speaking to him during these nights. Maybe praising him, if he could be so bold to wish that, for how nicely he takes the sir's cock. Or how open Bucky stretches himself. Perhaps how obediently Bucky waits every night, never asking for it any other time even though Bucky wants to. If Bucky was allowed, he'd ask for more of the sir's cock. More rounds, more times in the day, just more.

But Bucky knows how lucky he is to even get this so he keeps his desires locked inside and waits for Sir Steven to relieve himself just once before he pulls out and instructs Bucky to draw him a bath.

Tonight, Sir Steven fucks him very much the same way he always does and Bucky whines happily to the headboard he's facing when suddenly the pace slows. The man's fingertips dig into Bucky's flesh like he's restraining himself, waiting for something to pass. Bucky doesn't understand, fear strikes his chest with the worry that this all might end.

Sir Steven lets out a slow exhale, loosens his grip but keeps his hands on him.

"Turn around," Sir Steven orders.

Bucky's eyes go wide as he feels Sir Steven's cock slip out of him, allowing this shift to happen. Bucky flips onto his back faster than he's ever moved in his life. He hopes he's schooling his expression but he's sure his face is giving him away against his will. He can't process what's happening yet.

Sir Steven spreads Bucky's knees apart, grabs the base of his cock, and slides back inside. Bucky looks at him amazed, wonders if somehow Sir Steven can read minds and knows this is one of Bucky's wildest fantasies.

The older man leans over Bucky, his face lowers slowly until his mouth is only inches from Bucky's. This can't be, is Bucky's first thought. Kissing is something he never ever dreamed of. Never thought could happen in his world.

There's no kiss as Sir Steven begins his pace again, fucking him with their eyes locked. Bucky's skin is in flames. This is beyond what he thought eye contact would feel like.

"Fuck," Sir Steven whispers abruptly.

Even more of a shock, Sir Steven never swears. Never. Bucky tries not to look surprised but their faces are only inches apart, Sir Steven can observe every minute movement in his expression.

The pace ramps up, each thrust building with more force until Bucky's mouth cracks open with a whine. He feels embarrassed this close to his master, worries the man might not like the feel of hot breath on him. Bucky tries to bite his mouth closed but the next ram of his master's cock is hard and unapologetic, making Bucky cry out.

Sir Steven's mouth twitches, almost like it's about to curl into a smile. And then he leans closer, Bucky sucks in a breath. He can't breathe which is hard given the way he's being fucked — he was already out of breath to begin with. But no, he's not breathing when Sir Steven connects their mouths for the very first time and presses a gentle kiss to Bucky's lips.

When he draws back, Bucky's body reacts impulsively, explosively. He comes, so hard and loud, his eyes snap shut with fear. The pleasure is so abrupt and intense, Bucky can barely catch his breath even as Sir Steven slows the pace once again.

Bucky's terrified to open his eyes. He has always waited, has trained himself not to come first and tonight Bucky not only came first, he came embarrassingly loud and obvious and right after the man kissed him. He's so pathetic, he knows it, and he's petrified Sir Steven will not like any of this at all.

Bucky keeps his eyes closed, shaking a little, still reeling from the aftermath of the shock and pleasure that just soared through his body.

He feels a hand lightly caress his face. He opens his eyes and sees Sir Steven smiling at him. What? Bucky doesn't understand how it's possible. Then his world shatters again because Sir Steven plants yet another kiss upon his lips.

"My turn," Sir Steven states, a smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth.

He sits up and proceeds to fuck Bucky exceptionally fast until his eyes squeeze shut and the look on his face, oh god, Bucky's never seen the man's orgasm face. It's pure lust, pure relief. Bucky's hips jolt when he feels the rush of release inside him.

Sir Steven sits for a few moments with his eyes closed, breathing heavily before he carefully pulls out.

"I'd like you to draw my bath and then join me tonight," he says.

Bucky's speechless, truly. He sits with his mouth hanging open for a long beat before he processes this as an order.

He nods speedily and pushes himself up from the bed. He wobbles to the bathroom, it's always a tricky walk for him after a nice fucking, but tonight it's exceedingly difficult.

He starts the bath and soon finds himself smiling so wide his cheeks begin to hurt. What on earth did he do to deserve this?

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky smut #tumblr fic #bucky barnes fanfic #steve rogers fanfic

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thisisarcanereverie · 2 years

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Love Bites (MAIN Steven Grant x Jealous! Reader) SMUT!

Hi this is based from an ask from

@dopeqff

Summary: You go to give Steven his lunch on his first day as a tour guide, which leads to some interesting following events.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p i v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (m recieving), jealousy, insecure thoughts, biting (f giving), smutty steven (that's a warning ok?). MINORS DNI

Feel free to ask for more requests, I may not be able to get to them all immediately but I will eventually!

You considered yourself to be a pacifist. Believing that violence should be avoided until absolutely necessary, like life or death.

However you were seriously considering cutting that woman's manicured hands off of her body if she didn’t get them off of your boyfriend.

It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Steven (or Marc and Jake for that matter), you trusted them completely. It was just a darker, more feral, more insecure part of you that looked at that person's hands and wanted to tear them from his arm. You watched as she tried every trick in the book, fingers dancing along his arm, gasp you must work out a lot Steven, the fluttering of the eyes with a look that just says ‘notice me’, god you could practically hear her. However, you were content to stay next to the gift shop in the museum, silently seething at the woman but supporting Steven on his first day as a tour guide for now. Your poor Steven probably didn’t even realize what was going on, he was too engrossed talking about the mummification process to notice the woman's (not really) subtle advances. You were about to take a walk to clear your head before you noticed how her eyes darted to his ass and bit her lip.

You checked the clock and you thanked all the gods that it was around Steven’s lunch break time. However he hadn’t noticed since he was so involved in answering and giving thorough explanations to the seemingly never ending questions that the woman asked.

Your low heels lightly clacked against the marble floor as you made your way to your curly haired vigilante. You were thankful you brought him his lunch that he probably didn’t even know he forgot.

You got to him just before the woman could ask another question that she just didn’t care about. You lightly tapped Steven on the shoulder, hoping your face was light hiding your seething feelings. He paused as he turned to you, you could see his dark eyes light up and the smile that you were convinced could blind the sun god himself stretched over his face.

“Darling,” Steven said, the woman beside him glared at you, you tried to pay her no mind. You held up the brown paper bag with the words “Steven with a V” written in his handwriting.

“Couldn’t let you miss lunch again love,” You said in a light tone, you hand him the paper bag with a kiss on his cheek. You lingered there for a second, recuperating the glare the blonde woman behind him was giving you. You wanted to kiss him breathless in front of her, grab his ass as you glared at her with a silent message in your eyes.

Mine

But you knew that Steven would probably blush profusely and get reprimanded on his first day, so you did what you could do. You were sweet, you were a silent storm, brewing.

“Well now that you’re here, why don’t we both go to lunch?” Steven asked, his fingers playing with the paper bag slightly. His hands always needed something to do, whether that's playing with the strings on his jacket, solving a puzzle or…more pleasurable.

“Sounds like a plan,” You look behind Steven, right at the woman who Steven by now has completely forgotten about and smile a sweet and subtle ‘fuck you’ smile. Steven was about to walk away when the woman stopped him, and he clearly was startled, after forgetting her.

“Wait,” she said, god you hated her voice, it was too high pitched and nasally, “I still have a few questions regarding a thing we saw at the beginning of the tour.”

“It’s ok,” Steven said pointing to the person taking his place during lunch, “Bob will be able to answer those questions,” He holds out his hand to shake hers, “I’m off, lovely meeting you Sarah.”

You heard her slightly huff before you headed off towards the front doors to find somewhere to eat together. You were a few feet away from the museum when you heard Steven let out a chuckle.

“What’s funny?” You asked curiously.

“You,” Steven said, “I never thought I would live to see the day that I’d have someone getting jealous over somebody flirting with me.” His words shocked you.

“Me! Jealous,” You asked incredulously and a little defensively, “what would I be jealous about. She was just clearly very interested in what you had to say that she simply couldn’t contain herself.” Steven responded by chuckling more. His deep voice rumbling in his chest, eye crinkling in amusement as he admires the embarrassed flush invades your face and gives you away. Usually you’re the one to catch him being jealous, not the other way around so this was a treat. And if he was being honest, it made him feel special, knowing that he could have that effect on you as well. However, while he adored the pout that was currently on your face that you were trying to hide, he loved your smiles and laughter far more.

He grabbed your hand from your face, uncovering your blushing face.

“Although I’m flattered,” He starts as he kisses your cheek, “jealousy doesn’t suit you, I like seeing you smile more.” He stops you and brings you to the side of the sidewalk, where a wall full of graffiti laid bare, he kisses your nose before finally bringing you for a sweet and tender kiss on your lips. His kiss was always soft, full of love and tenderness. It was like kissing a dream, beautiful and leaves you in a sort of cloudy gaze, barely remembering it until his lips were on yours again. You would have probably kissed more if it wasn’t for the resounding rumble of your stomach interrupting you, reminding you that while you brought lunch for Steven you had barely eaten today. You and Steven looked at each other before laughing, his hands in yours, you both searched for a place to eat together.

—

You laid in bed with Steven, you washed the sheets earlier that day and you had just gotten out of the shower so a fresh scent surrounded you. The only thing it was missing was him.

Without him there thoughts of the day passed by, the woman from the museum still on your mind. You were so happy with Steven and Marc, and Jake. But you’ve been happy before, you’ve trusted before only to have it thrown back at your face. You start worrying that maybe you were misreading the situation, maybe you were harsh, maybe this is one of the good things that doesn't last and this is the beginning of the end.

You were so caught up with your inner demons that you didn’t register your personal angel sliding into the freshly washed and dried sheets until you felt a hand cradle your face.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours darling?” Steven asked, dark eyes unwavering.

“Steven I-”

“Darling what is it you always say to us?”

“Communication is key.”

“Correct,” Steven said as his hand went from cradling your face to holding your hand, “so communicate darling, I’m all ears.”

“I get scared sometimes,” You admit unable to say no to him, “today I have you. But tomorrow is never a given, I’m so scared that someday when I’ve let go completely that you’ll want nothing to do with me. That you’ll regret me and leave. I know this is rubbish, but I still worry. I also worry I may have been a little too harsh on Sarah from the gift shop today.” true to his word Steven lets you let it out. His eyes and ears never deviated once.

“It’s ok to get scared,” Steven starts, “I could say the same things too, I am the luckiest bastard today because I have you, but I can be the sorriest knob on the earth tomorrow if you decide I’m too broken to be loved. But while I have you, I plan on holding you, loving you, I plan on keeping that heart you gave me safe and warm, like how you are keeping mine.” Your eyes look away before he directs your attention back at him, “hey look at me,” his thumb ghosts over your cheeks, “I’m yours, nothing can change that.”

You bring your face to his, your lips molding together like puzzle pieces, you just fit. Your hands cradle his face, before going to his scalp as you lift one leg and straddle him on the bed. Your hands gently massage the space between his ear and hair. You hear him moan as his large hands grip your hips firmly, tanned digits digging into soft flesh, as the kisses now become opened mouthed and breathing becomes ragged.

Stevens hands move from their place on your waist and dance up your side before grabbing the hem of your nightshirt. He parts from you for just a second to which you respond with a slight wine, you open your eyes to see his midnight eyes asking silently, pleading really, to lift your shirt. You bite your lip as you nod, lifting your arms he practically tore the shirt from you. The bite of night air made goosebumps rise all over your skin, the mixture of the aroused look in your eyes and how your topless figure bathed in the moonlight left Steven absolutely breathless with love and lust. You could see his dark eyes darken as he drank you in, no matter how many times Steven has seen you he always got the same look as though he was looking at you for the first time. And that made you feel cherished.

Steven’s mouth lowered itself on your left breast, nipple in mouth, sucking, biting, tugging. Dragging choked, and needy whimpers and moans from you as you clutch onto his dark, damp curls. Back arching into his mouth, while his left hand played with your right breast and his right hand kneading the flesh of your ass. All of this went straight to your core, feral need flooded you as your mouth lowered itself to his ear. You nibbled at the top of his ear, licked and tugged at the lower part. Which seemed to send Steven into a needy frenzy of his own, he could feel your hot breath in his ear, deep and seductive.

“Let me touch you,” you whispered moaning in his ear as you tugged at the bottom of his shirt, “I need to touch you love please.”

For you he would do anything.

He stopped and excitedly got rid of the last shred of clothing separating your top halves together. Just as he was about to continue worshiping your breasts the way they deserved, you gently pushed him back, letting your hands roam around his toned body. Memorizing every detail.

Every scar, every mole, every freckle and goosebump.

You want to memorize it all.

Your lips latch onto his neck, sucking and kissing your way down to his clavicle. His breathing gets more erratic as he is so hard he throbs, his hands dancing patterns onto your skin. Your kisses continue downward, you take a small detour to take his dark nipple in your mouth sucking before lightly biting. His back arched at the sensation, urging for more, begging. However you have other plans as your hands gently caress the outline of his cock through his sleep pants. Noting the slight wet spot right where you knew the head was, a mischievous smirk settled on your lips. Your kisses travel lower, and lower until you are at eye level with the decent sized bulge. Your eyes look up at the half lidded and sex addled eyes of your lover before kissing the tip through the pants. The groan was guttural and damn did that do wonders for your confidence. You’ve brought him here, to the point between saving and utter ruin. Your eyes ask a silent question and he nodds fervently, your hands reach the waistband of his pants and he lifts his hips. You pull them down until his cock sprang forward, slapping against his stomach. It made your mouth water as you pulled back the foreskin and gave the tip of it a kiss before enveloping him within your mouth.

Steven swears as his fingers clutch the hair on your scalp in a tight grip as you bob your head up and down in a consistent and steady rhythm. Your tongue tracing the outline of the vein on the underside of his shaft. You look up and as you see Steven fall apart beneath you, his chest rising and falling erratically as you pick up your pace. You decide to get dangerous as you just barely let your teeth graze him. Suddenly you are pulled off of him, the salty taste of his precum lingering on your tongue as he mashes his pillow soft, kiss swollen lips against yours, nearly drawing blood. The kiss is all lust and teeth and tongue. His hands grab the flesh of your ass tightly, for sure leaving bruises in their wake. And you know you’ll wear those bruises on your ass like a badge of honor.

As the kiss died down he pressed his sweat covered forehead against yours.

“That was close,” Steven whispered breathlessly, “I would’ve made a mess if you had done that again.”

“That good huh?” you joked just as breathless as him as he kissed you again, sweetly. The combination of the feral and lust blown kiss from earlier to the sweet and domestic kiss was enough for your mind to whirl.

“Better than good,” Steven said, breaking away from the kiss, “but I want you to come before I do darling.”

You suddenly felt full as Steven thrusted his hips upward connecting you together. The pleasure filled screamed that came out of you made you sure that tomorrow you will receive a noise complaint…again.

Steven’s hands steadied you as you fell forward, your chest against his as he began thrusting upward. Bouncing you up and down his lower appendage.

You could barely form a coherent sentence as Steven expertly rocked into you and hit consistently in that one goddamn spot that made you see white. It was difficult to believe that Steven was so awkward about sex before when he’s fucking you so damn good. Your sweat covered chest rubbing against his, his hands firmly on your and the sole attention you were receiving was all contributing to the tight coil forming in your belly. It only got tighter once his diligent and skilled fingers found the sensitive little bundle of nerves and started rubbing in lazy circles that you felt the coil get impossibly tight as you felt him throb inside you.

“I’m not gonna last much longer my darling,” he confesses as his lips attack your neck, “you’re so tight, let go my darling cum for me.”

At that you did, you felt the surge of mind blowing pleasure that you didn’t realize you bit harshly onto Stevens neck. However at the feeling of your teeth sinking into him and marking him he exploded, unable to keep rocking into you as his release leaked out of where you both were joined.

You both stayed like that for a while, with you collapsed on top of him, gently kissing the mark you left on him as an apology. While he lovingly traced the outline of your spine and the red marks he knew will darken into bruises by morning. Both of you basked in each other's afterglow, not having the energy to move and nearly falling asleep. However Steven, the man who was always so attentive to your needs, knew you would be uncomfortable in a few hours if he didn’t clean you up. So reluctantly he removed himself from you with a wet plop, you groaned as you felt so empty without him. He kissed your temple and tried to remove himself from you, letting you know he was just gonna get a wet rag to clean you up with as well.

You drifted in and out of sleep as you heard him in the bathroom over wetting the rag with warm water.

He came back not a few minutes later with a warm wet rag and cleaned you up, although you were sensitive the warm wet rag was a welcome. After cleaning you up Steven disposed of the rag after cleaning himself up as well, he slid in next to you. His chin resting on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your torso.

“How in the bloody hell am I going to cover this love bite tomorrow.”

TAGLIST:

You fell asleep smiling proudly at yourself.

@simonsbluee

MOONKNIGHT MASTERLIST

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sailorkamino · 2 years

Note

Could you do a blurb with our witch reader and the moon boys, where she’s attacked while they’re on a date🫣. Only if you want to of course!! ✨🫶

Star (Gazing) Wars

relationships: moon boys x avenger!witch reader, platonic!khonshu x reader [gender neutral]

word count: 0.8k

warnings: you go slightly feral when your bf's are threatened, mentioned terrorism/murder, alien death, marc is a star wars nerd, brief cashew cameo

a/n: my first request! i hope you like it (also this gif is jake's reaction to watching you fight)

chaos in us masterlist

You’re just sitting down on the picnic blanket beside Steven when a familiar tingle dances along your skin. “What do you sense, little witch?”

You don’t even flinch at the deep voice anymore, simply sighing in annoyance. One date night is all you want, one date without annoying gods or last minute missions. “What is he talking about?” Steven asks in confusion. You focus on the bird behind him. “Have you been following us?”

“I have better things to do.”

You've been feeling off for a few hours now but you can't detect why. Ignoring the god as usual, you reach out your powers but you run into a mental wall. Whatever is targeting you has psychic abilities too and is fortifying their mind. They’re good, but they can’t hide from you entirely.

Well at least the park is practically empty at this hour (you came here for stargazing after all.) “You might want to summon the suit, babe,” you tell him casually.

Steven tilts his head, sure he misheard you. “You want the soup?”

Then suddenly a F/C force field is around you both, deflecting a laser blast. The beam ricochets, ripping through the shooter. You hear an exclaim as a kree flickers into vision. They’re wearing an elaborate suit that kept them invisible before, but is now damaged, soaked with blue blood. You’ve never dealt with a telepathic kree before but you know they love to experiment on each other so you aren’t terribly surprised.

You get into a kneeling position as your clothes transform into your own suit. “Don’t freak out. Just a few aliens,” you attempt to soothe him. He looks even more overwhelmed then suddenly his eyes flutter. When they open Jake is fronting. You sense two more Kree. Realizing their mission is failing, their shield’s have started to weaken. “Get the shooter. I’ll handle his friends,” you order Jake.

You easily control both of the aliens, making them deactivate their invisibility suits and surrender. You put one in a comatose state but the other is doing everything to fight against your influence.

“Who’s your lover?” It manages to choke out. How dare this monster even mention your boyfriends. Your magic boils inside of you. Your eyes burn F/C as the kree wails in pain, clutching their head. You approach their crumpled form.

“Let me explain something to you. Your powers require focus, right? When you get upset they weaken. But chaos magic is the opposite. You make me mad, or hurt someone I love, I lose control.”

Their body sags. You take the time to look through their mind, sickened by what you see. Although you’re relieved to find the kree have no large scale plans of invading earth, they deem it too guarded. The three idiots who attacked you disagreed. They stupidly thought their psychic abilities would be enough to defeat you.

“Cariño, look at this gun!”

You turn around to see your boyfriend donned in his black and white armor. His uncovered face goes from excitement to concern when he notices your shaken state. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” He disregards the weapon he was so excited about to hold your face in his hands.

“I’m fine, baby. Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m good. It wasn’t exactly a struggle considering he already shot himself.”

You flash a small, relieved smile but then you notice the blue splatters staining Jake’s suit. “Did you kill him?”

He raises his brow. “Was I not supposed to?” He gestures to blue figures by your feet. “Are they not dead?”

You shake your head no. “Just unconsciousness. I needed to get some information from them.”

Jake suddenly looks nervous, afraid you’re going to judge him for being too violent. Too dark for you. You’re quick to reassure him. “Hey, these guys are terrorists. When I looked in their minds there was so much bloodshed. There’s no telling how many they’ve killed.”

He’s silent for a moment. “So can I shoot them with this?”

Despite the gruesome circumstances a faint smirk graces your mouth. “Yes, Jake. You can use the outer space gun.”

You choose to look at the pond as he sends a laser through each alien’s head. It’s a painless death. Much more merciful than the way they slaughtered their victims. With a flick of your wrist the bodies and their weapons evaporate into nothing.

When you look back at your boyfriends you're greeted with puppy dog eyes. “Let us keep it,” Marc pleads, clutching the stolen gun in his hands. You sigh in defeat. “Fine, but don’t let Steven use it. He’ll blow off a finger. And that counts as your Hanukah presents!"

“Hah! I get a blaster!”

“Wait, is that why you want it? Because it looks like a blaster from Star Wars?”

“... No.”

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #chaos in us #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight #khonshu #platonic khonshu #jewish moon knight #moon boys

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halfmoonshines · 2 years

Note

could I please get protective!steven when reader gets hurt and everyone including himself being surprised at how feral he goes :>

am i writing this instead of the actual story people keep requesting?

yes.

do i love this prompt?

yes.

Steven Grant x GN!Reader (Slight Jake Lockley x Reader and Marc Spector x Reader)

summary; it's about a year after the events of moon knight. The whole system is working on flowing together better, and they all help Khonshu in little ways. As more of a 'hero' than a murderer- but that doesn't mean they don't get into trouble. You being hurt is the outlier.

Unfathomable

The only thought that kept parading around in Steven's head (sans his partners loud voices) was the fact that you were not supposed to be here.

He gaze kept wandering to you, despite the onslaught of enemies you were both currently trying to hold back. If he hadn't had the Mr. Knight suit on, the panic on his face would be alarming. You were admittedly holding your own pretty well, but you shouldn't have to. He was irate with himself for allowing you to be pulled into this.

You were damn near exhausted. You and Steven had been ambushed on your way home from dinner. Supposedly something that Jake had gotten himself into had followed them home - right to you and Steven.

You saw the end of the fight approaching, thoroughly impressed with yourself. You kicked the last guy in the stomach, bringing his face into your knee when he doubled over and knocking him out.

You raised a fist triumphantly, turning to look for your boyfriend. He was about 10 yards away, having just dispatched his last foe. You gave him a smile that the mask of his suit dissipated to share with you. He took a few steps forward before his expression morphed into pure terror, he opened his mouth to call for you.

But you'd already noticed. A few seconds too late.

You felt the air stir behind you and turned quickly, just in time for the blade of the man's knife to embed itself in your torso.

The loud scream of your name was the next sound you heard, and the man was ripped off of you - knife remaining where it had hit home.

Steven was quite literally seeing red. He was on you in an instant, the exclamations of both Jake and Marc were background noise behind the roaring in his ears. Steven grabbed the man by his collar, forcibly pulling him away from you and throwing him to the ground.

Steven wasted no time straddling the mans chest, blow after blow landing upside his head, a few words puncturing through the sound of his fist meeting the other mans flesh.

"Don't you ever fucking touch them."

Steven. Steven! Marc's loud voice was what pulled Steven out of his stupor, and he quickly noticed that he had most certainly beat this man half to death.

Go check on them, they’re going to need medical attention.

That was all Steven needed to quickly switch positions, pulling himself up and rushing over to where you'd collapsed on the ground.

The pain was like nothing you'd ever felt before, like burning magma coursing through your veins. You were vaguely aware of Steven's worried face over yours, the tears shining in your eyes being the last thing you noticed before the world went black.

It wasn't until over an hour later, Steven sat at your bedside in the ICU that Jake and Marc finally said something to him.

You went feral back there, hermano. Jake sounded proud.

Not that we have a problem with that. Marc tacked on.

Steven thought briefly back to the mans broken and bleeding face.

"Should've killed him."

#steven grant x gn! reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x gn!reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #my works

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arlovinnia · 1 year

Note

Could I request a very feral looking Steven?

You absolutely can!

I originally had a few other sketches planned out, but this is the only one I liked so, I hope it's okay!

#ask #anonymous #blastin out art #strangled red #steven strangled red #s!3v3n #pokepasta #pokemon creepypasta #creepypasta #Leviathan: I love drawing my fiance <3 thank you anon!

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whatthefishh · 1 year

Note

Ok here we go...

You and Steven have been busy and he cannot stop thinking about fucking you. You've texted him, per his request, pictures of your sweet wet pussy.

You: [IMG]

Steven: Oh love, I just can't wait to fill you up again.

Steven: Have you spilling out all over me.

You: Are you touching yourself, baby?

Steven: [IMG]

Steven shot a picture just for you of his thick cock being strangled by his fingers. His palm is no adequate replacement for your beautiful cunt, but it will have to suffice until he can stuff himself to the hilt inside of you once again. For now, he would settle for covering his abdomen in cum every single night, waiting for you.

But between your jobs and lives, the opportunity didn't arise again for a week, when you surprised him with dinner at his place. He thought he was clever, keeping a key under the mat but you found it and let yourself in.

When he got there you were in the middle of cleaning up still, leaned over the sink doing the dishes.

"Oh hi!" You said coyly.

He's never been the bold type, but seeing you in that little skirt and apron made him feral. He came up behind you, forcing a gasp from your lips and wasted no time bending you over. You grabbed the sink for support.

"S-sorry love, I just can't help myself. Been thinkin' about this for far too long." He said, feeling at your panties. "You're all wet, s'that all for me darling?"

"Yes, Steven, baby..."

He pulled down your panties, and fumbled with his pants, trying to get them down quickly. He fucked you, hard and rough into the sink. Slamming your hips so aggressively you thought they might bruise.

And oh did he fill you up. He filled you so full you felt it dripping down your thighs while he continued, to do it for a second time. When he was finished, he was on his knees underneath you, cleaning your thighs and cunt with his tongue.

"Taste's so good darling...ahh." You heard him beneath you.

Mona....breeding kink Steven has done things to me and I can't stop the thots. They're wild.

MELODY!!!!! WHY HOW WHAT WHY

I JUST TOLD YOU I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT AND COME IN TO MY HOUSE WITH THIS

He’s probably been thinking about the moment you told him it was okay, and how good it felt to watch his spend leak out, and is desperate to do it again skzjwjamdnkwhs

And you wore a skirt. On purpose. 100% intentional and with the hopes of him seeing you all domestic in his kitchen making him go feral. Which it FUCKING DID.

#inbox 💌#fk me up clearly #steven grant smut #steven grant my beloved #melody tag

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ninjastormhawkkat · 7 months

Text

The Chaotic Four: Curse of The Weremouse - The "Fair" Deal

The Mayor twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he and the heads of the Fair City Safety Committee and Events Committee sat before their guest. A male figure, who by physical appearance, was not an intimidating presence. So the Mayor should have no reason to be afraid, but he was. The Mayor glanced at the other faces of the board, they all had serious expressions, but he could tell that they were also a bit unnerved by the expression of the man who was sitting before them. They just did a better job of hiding it than the Mayor. Normally The Mayor felt he was a friendly guy, very approachable to the people of Fair City. He did his best to answer reasonable requests even if he didn't fully understand the requirements of his job. At the end of the day, The Mayor just wanted to show the people of this city that he was a kind, friendly, and approachable guy. Unfortunately, the person sitting before them was not accepting of that personality at the moment. "So you see Professor Boxleitner," The Mayor began to speak, trying to ignore the hardened angry expression he was receiving from said man, "The committee heads and I believe it will be in everyone's best interest that Mousebraingirl is kept contained and away from the city's first annual "Cheese Appreciation Festival" until the celebration is finished. Of course your daughter would be left under you supervision Professor Boxleitner. With some police checking in on her every now and then to make sure she ins't causing trouble." They Mayor hoped that would calm the man, making him more agreeable to the city officials' plan for the young villainous during this important occasion. They were gravely mistaken. "So you want me to keep my daughter locked up like how she usually is when in prison. When she hadn't even done anything criminal yet. Just so you can have a fantastic, glorified party in honor of the one food item that my child finds insatiably tantalizing!" Steven spat in their faces as he glared at the Mayor and the other people sitting near the man. They Mayor tried to explain the proposal again but Steven wasn't letting him do so. "You all know well that my daughter has an uncontrollable obsession regarding cheese. That is why you have asked me to come and listen to your demands in the first place." Steven sneered. One of the members stood up. "Please Professor Boxleitner! We are trying to be reasonable here with you. Our priority concerns are for the citizens of this city and their possessions. Frankly your child has a nasty habit in the past of causing property damage due to her powers as well as biting and clawing at the local heroes or an unfortunate civilian if they get in the way of her crimes. Mousebraingirl is a feral and dangerous villain. The only reason this city hasn't taken additional measures to deal with someone like her is because she is a child! So please stop acting so stubborn about this and just accept this fair proposal we laid out for you." Steven's eyes widened, looking offended at the person's words for only a brief moment before his face flashed into a dark and dangerous look that indicated they had said the worst thing possible to his face. The person that spoke out gulped and their fellow members along with the Mayor flinched back. For the briefest second, the Mayor thought he was facing Maddrix the Malicious himself. "How dare you." Steven growled, his words sounding scarily calm. "It's not my daughter's fault she can't control her cheese obsession. She is just a little girl who is unable to resist the natural instincts of a vicious mouse attached to her cranium. But you people think she is some type of feral beast that needs to be locked up! You say you are doing this for the "safety" and "wellbeing" of the citizens. We all know you just need another celebration as a means to bring in more tourists and raise profits for businesses which means more money for your pockets come tax season. If you are so worried about my daughter then don't be!" @erraticeris @melodythebunny @liloskull343

#wordgirl #wordgirl au #steven boxleitner #mousebraingirl au #the last superheroes au #maddrix the malicious #the chaotic four: curse of the weremouse #the mayor #mouse boxleitner #becky boxleitner au #the chaotic four #wordgirl ocs #halloween fic

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years

Note

hey akka<333 I just saw your requests are open!!

can i please have a moonboys x desi!reader(doesn't have to be tamil, im only half tamil, so~) where moonboys have to go to india(her hometown, maybe hyderabad? ) for like a mission and reader begs to tag along because she hasn't been there in months and so when they're there she takes them along to all the monuments and introduces then to like indian food, AUTHENTIC indian food and like Jake is going feral over everything, Marc is enjoying the food and steven is drooling over the monuments. and reader runs into her old friends who were toxic and made hr=er her feel like shit and shes kinda gets into a spiral about herself and moonboys reassure her that they love her and calm her down? THANK YOU AKKA YOU ARE BY NO MEANS IN ANY WAY PRESSURE TO DO THIS, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU

Hyderabad Diaries (Steven Grant x desi!reader, Marc Spector x desi!reader, Jake Lockley x desi!reader)

Masterlist

Summary: Your boyfriends are going on a mission and you wanted to tag along :) Warnings: Swearing, a little angst, mentions of weapons. Word Count: 2.7k words

A/N: Here you go! Again thank you so so much for the requests sweethearttt <333 I tried to make this as fluffy as possible. (Also ik the song above is about friendship but I THINK ITS CUTE FOR THIS OKAY)

Tagging: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @pakhiya @ahookedheroespureheart @swiggy-needs-mental-help

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You always hated it when your boyfriends had to leave for missions. You knew the suit they had would most definitely protect them and keep them away from harm but you worried endlessly about them and would constantly curse the moon god that would drag them around for these missions.

“Darling, it'll only be for one or two weeks, I promise, we’ll be safe and we will text and call.” Steven says, neatly folding his clothes and slotting them into the luggage bag.

You pulled a sweater that he just folded out of the bag and hugged it close, nuzzling the soft material with your nose, smelling the faint smell of Steven’s cologne. Your eyes threatened to tear up again. You couldn’t do it, your heart was aching.

“Where are you guys going anyway?” you say, trying to distract yourself by helping Steven.

“Oh umm, top secret, mission things.” Steven mumbles, avoiding your eye, making you frown.

“Steven, what are you not telling me?” you say, your heart speeding up.

“Uhh, ohh, I think Marc is better at handling this.” Steven mumbles again and dipped so fast that you don't have time to react.

You stare unbelievingly at Marc who gives you a nervous smile and backs away slowly from the table that you were sitting at. You got off the chair and glared at Marc.

“What are you guys hiding from me, Spector, you better tell me, or I swear I will torture it out of you.” you say clawing your fingers as you approach him.

“OKAY! FINE, I’LL TELL YOU WHERE WE ARE GOING, PLEASE, STOP!” he screams, gasping for air as you tickle.

You sit back on your legs, satisfied with your work.

“We’re going to Hyderabad.” Marc mumbles and your jaw drops open.

“No way, really?” you say, unable to contain your surprise and Marc nods.

“Please take me with you, please. I haven’t been home for months, please Marc, baby.” You plead instantly, scooching closer to him.

“I knew you would ask me, that's why I wouldn't tell you.” He frowns. “I can’t take you along for a mission, sweetheart.”

“Dude, it's my home, I’ll be safe, please, I promise, just lemme come with you, yea?” you say, gripping his bicep, rubbing circles.

Marc glares at you but you could tell that he was slowly giving in, his eyes betraying him.

“You’re lucky that we love you so much.” Marc scowls and grumbles and you crush him in a hug and smother him with kisses.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

On the day of departure from Heathrow Airport you were literally bouncing up and down with excitement.

Marc, on the other hand, was on his weird ‘father duties’ whereby he didn’t let you do a single thing, checking in the bags with his hands on his hips and making sure for the hundredth time he had the correct passport and tickets. You watch him with a small smile and shake your head at his behavior, realizing that he would make a really cute dad.

The flight took off without any issues and soon you were soaring through the skies. Three hours into the flight, the flight attendants came around with their food carts.

“Would you like anything, ma’am.”

“Just a coffee please!” You say smiling up at the flight attendant, but your smile flattered when you saw where she was looking.

“And a side of stop-eyeing-my-man.” You mumble.

“Sorry ma’am?” The flight attendant asked

“Nothing.” You smile sweetly, taking the coffee and curling your fingers around Marc’s bicep, tightening your grip on him.

“Possessive much, sweetheart?” Marc whispered, chuckling as you glared at the air stewardess’ retreating figure.

“You’d do the same, asshole.” you say pinching him softly and he pretends to die from the pain, making you laugh.

The nine hour flight was quicker with Marc by your side and the second the both of you stepped out of Rajiv Gandhi International Airport, you were greeted by Jake, who stretched and yawned from the long flight, grabbing your bags and pecking your cheek.

You breathe in the familiar smell of home and feel it envelope you. You spot your cousins at the entrance and run up to give them a hug, Jake trudging behind you.

“Anu, Hari, Vani, this is my boyfriend, Marc. Marc, my cousins Anushri, Harini and Bhavani. And this handsome man is my uncle, Vas.” you quickly introduce the lot. Jake smiles at your cousins and shakes your uncle’s hand, helping him load the stuff to the car.

Jake sat in the front, making small talk with your uncle while you and your cousins squeezed into the back seat of your uncle’s car. Within 20 minutes, you were at your grandmother’s home where you and Jake were welcomed with an aarti and loads of hugs. Jake leaned down and touched your grandma’s feet, seeking her blessing, which made your heart almost explode with adoration for him.

“Ma, you didn’t tell me that this handsome man was so charming over your calls?” your grandma gushed over Jake, reaching up to pat his face as he gave her a dopey grin.

“You talk to your grandma about me?” Jake whispered as he and you followed your cousin up the stairs.

“No, I talk to her about Gus the flippin' fish on a daily basis.” you say blandly, rolling your eyes at him, making him chuckle. “Of course I talk about you, dummy.” you continue as the both of you part to go to different rooms.

You were to sleep with your cousins and Jake got one of your cousins rooms. You knew that the boys would be out most of the time and you've already made an excuse for him as to why he would be out for long hours, telling your family that he would be going to a few meetups for an artifact, which was not exactly a lie.

You knew that Khonshu probably is sending them to find another world-ending artifact that the gods had left lying around Earth hundreds of thousands of years ago.

“Amor, I'm gonna excuse myself. You have fun and stay out of trouble.” Jake enters your room and kisses your forehead.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You say poking his chest and he chuckles again before exiting the room, leaving your cousins to stare at you open mouthed.

“What?” you stare back and exaggeratedly widen your eyes, eyebrows furrowing.

“Spanish?! And the FOREHEAD KISS?!!” Anu shouts, making you hiss.

“Oh, yea. And Arabic, some French and Ancient Egyptian, for obvious reasons.” You say, counting off the languages, grinning from ear to ear.

“Arabic, French and Spanish? The holy trinity of beautiful languages? And he looks good too. You didn’t tell us he looked that good, you just said he was cute?” Vani questions.

You throw a decorative pillow at her and she laughs.

“Why don’t you ask him when he comes back for dinner?” you challenge her.

“Deal.”

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The boys didn’t arrive for dinner and you made a sly excuse for them to your family, stating that he was having dinner with the artifact dealers. Despite feeling extremely tired, your cousins dragged you to get ready to go out and meet some friends at an open bar. You reluctantly agreed to it and sent a text to the boys before leaving.

Going to an open bar to meet up with old friends, hope everything is alright, love you xxx.

You hit send on the text and sigh, the pit of your stomach swirling with worry. You look up to the full moon that is shining amongst the stars and smile, telling yourself that they will be fine.

The open bar was lovely and you sipped a little sunset martini as you caught up with your friends.

“So, Y/N, how's life?” one of your friends, Shahira asks.

“Pretty normal. Um, my job is steady and I’m relatively happy in London.” you say with a smile.

Your life was far from normal, but you definitely wouldn’t admit your little secret to your cousin and friends.

“She’s being humble,” Anu says, nudging you, “You should see the hottie that she brought back here.”

Just as she says it, you hear the words ‘mummified vigilante’ float into your ears and you whip your head around to the TV that was switched to the news channel. And there he was, clear as day, your “hottie” running at an unfathomable speed in the Moon Knight suit, trying to get away from the press camera, cape swishing in the wind. The people around you gasp and you turn around, downing your sunset martini in one go, eyes wide.

Well that's one way to find out that they are okay.

Clearing your throat, you frown at your friends. “Who the hell was that?” you said, masking your worry with confusion.

“Dunno. Never saw ‘em before.” your friend says.

After a while the bar simmers down and everyone is back to their own business but your heart is pounding against your chest and you take slow breaths to calm yourself down.

“So, as I was saying, Y/N’s hunk of a boyfriend is living with us. He speaks five languages and is American!” your cousin says and you glare at her for going on and on about your boyfriend.

“Got a picture? Let's see him then.” one of your friends says and before you could say no, your cousin whips out her phone and shows a picture of him.

“Dude, did you sneakily take a picture of him?” you hissed at her while your friends stare at the picture. “He’s a very private guy!”

With a lot of enemies.

“Damn, Y/N, did you use a love potion on this guy? He’s so out of your range.” Shahira says, making you frown.

“I..don’t follow?”

“He’s hot and you’re, you.” She says, gesturing at you, smirking as your frown deepens.

“You’re too drab for someone like him, Y/N. You probably bore him, like you bore us. Or maybe he likes ugly girls.” She continues, miming shoving two fingers down her throat and pretending to puke.

You stare in disbelief at Shahira, a friend that you've known for years, who was dragging you down for something so impervious.

“I don’t get it, are you, like, jealous or something?” You ask before you can stop yourself, your cousin staying silent beside you.

“Jealous? Of you? Plain, old, drab, Y/N? Oh please, I could take him away from you with the snap of my fingers.” She smugly says.

“Unless of course, you paid him some money to come with you? That's why he’s not here right now with you, hmm?” Your friends around you giggle like a bunch of school girls and you feel your face heating up.

Your blood boiled and you wished you had one of Marc’s crescent darts, Steven’s batons or even Jake's gun in your hand right now. You stood up and pulled a few notes out of your purse and slammed it down onto the table, making the glasses clink.

“You know what, I’m leaving. You all can keep making more of your theories, just never speak to me again. And Anu? I’m so fucking disappointed with you.” You say and turn, stomping away, trying to hold back your tears as you frantically call a cab.

You cried all the way home; the alcohol, the constant worry that you had for your boyfriends and the embarrassment you felt just now, piling together into one big emotional landslide.

You kick your shoes off at the landing and run up to the boys’ room, which you presumably thought was empty, so you flung the door open and attempted to dive onto the bed but instead you collided with a wall of muscle.

“Darling? Why are you crying? Bollocks, are you hurt? Did something happen, my love?” Steven’s frantic voice travels into your ear and you hug him tightly. He tips your face up to meet his eyes.

“Don’t look at me, I’m ugly.” You mumble as Steven scrunches his face into a confused expression.

“What happened, honey? Did something happen just now?” He says softly, wiping your eyes with the pads of his thumbs, cradling your face in his palms.

You shake your head, tears threatening to leak out of your eyes again.

“It’s ok, I’m here when you're ready.” He said soothingly, one hand leaving your face to pull you closer to his chest.

“Do I bore you, Steven?” you whisper into his thin t-shirt.

“What? No, no darling, you don’t bore me at all.” Steven says, shifting slightly to look down at you. “What makes you say that?”

You slowly tell him what your friends said about you and him.

“Oh please, we’re not teenagers, my love, we’re adults.” Steven chuckled. “Besides, Marc and Jake are not that good looking, maybe I am but the other two are- OWW!” You look up to see Steven pulling and twisting his own ear and a laugh escapes you instantly.

Steven sinks into the parquet floor and drags you down, pulling you onto his lap. You immediately press your forehead into his neck as he holds you.

“We personally think you’re gorgeous and probably the most interesting person out of the four of us.” Steven says into your hair. “Don’t let their words get to you, my love. I don’t think they really know the real value of you, the way me, Marc and Jake see you. You’re our perfect angel.”

You nod and stay there a little longer, absorbing Steven’s energy.

“I saw you guys on the news.” You whispered.

“Oh yea, pesky news van didn’t wanna let us go, the bastards.” Steven chuckled. “But great news, we found the thing that Khonshu was looking for. Didn’t expect to finish the job so fast, innit?”

He pointed to a little gold bracelet on the table and you grinned.

“Does this mean you have time to spend with me here?” You say, looking up at him.

“Of course, we can have all the fun you want.” He smiled.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day was probably the most amazing day you had spent with the boys in a long time.

You woke up to a beautiful authentic Indian breakfast spread made by your grandmother that you and Jake finished in less than ten minutes and still wanted more. Jake showered your grandmother with flattery which only made her feed him more food.

“Ammama, you're going to turn him into a lazy hibernating bear, I wanna take him around town!” you tell her as she attempts to serve him again.

She pinched his cheeks and ruffled his hair, making him grin and stick his tongue out at you. You glare playfully at your grandmother.

“I’m her favorite now.” he whispers, smirking.

Avoiding your cousins, you and Steven decided to leave early to take a bus to Golconda Fort. You listened intently to Steven’s explanations about the place that he read out of the book and animated it to you with his expressions.

You had been here before for a school trip but you have to admit that Steven made the experience more entertaining than you had intended. Sooner or later, people started to gather around and listen to Steven instead of the actual tour guide.

“Steven, Steven, baby, we’re gonna get kicked out.” you whispered as Steven smiles shyly at the crowd around him and you.

Marc had found some street snacks and after a long few hours of walking together, you both slumped onto a bench.

“Good god, Steven really talks a lot doesn’t he? My jaw hurts from rambling so much.” Marc says, rubbing his face.

“Are you sure it's because Steven talks a lot or because you and Jake clench your jaw to the point of damage.” you tease, cupping his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks together, making him pout like a duck.

“Maybe both.” he mumbles and rolls his eyes.

You laugh and let go of his face, leaning your head onto his shoulder and continue to savor your snack.

“Marc?”

“Mhmm?”

“Thanks for letting me come with you guys.”

“I was scared to death thinking that you would tickle me to high heaven if I said no.” he says back.

“Don’t be a wuss.” you chuckle.

“Yes, yes, love you too.” Marc says, nudging you.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Translations:

Hyderabad: Hyderabad is the capital of southern India's Telangana state.

Amor: Love

Ammama: Grandma

Golconda Fort: Built by Qutub Shahi Kings, this fort presents an impressive structure, with eight gates and 87 bastions.

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight fluff #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x desi!reader #steven grant x desi!reader #marc spector x desi!reader #moon knight x desi!reader #jake lockley fluff #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff

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strange-dreams-are-made-of-these · 2 years

Text

Your Voice Consoles Me

Stephen Strange x F!reader

Disclaimer: I do not own the image used, or any of the marvel character rights or plots.

Warnings: mentions of car accident, mentions of animal attack (bear), mentions of scars, fluf

Word count: 2,909

A/N: hello! This is my first ever Stephen Strange fic. Please don’t be too harsh about it. it’s a little story set three years after the blip where the reader struggles with survivors guilt, wanting to find a way to bring Stephen back. No mentions of DSMOM. This was a lot of fun writing. I am willing to do more, requests are open.

Addendum: I wrote a second part, you can find it here!

Moonlight flooded through the Windows of the World, filling the space with natural pale blue light. You had stayed in the New York Sanctum for about three years now, studying under the Sorceror Supreme, Wong. Your studying habits were never concrete, having to know everything you could know about Thanos, the infinity stones, and finding a way to bring Stephen home. Stephen along with literally half of the earth's population vanished after Thanos and his army of alien trash attacked New York and Wakanda, in search of the Mind Stone from Vision and the Time Stone from Stephen.

You met Steven at Kamar-Taj in 2017, where you had been a student for nearly three months. When you first saw Stephen, you knew there had been something wrong about him. It had nothing to do with the tremors in his hands, the dirty dressings on them, or how feral he looked. He looked starved in the eyes, starved of knowledge. You would soon find out later it wasn't far from the truth, as the two of you would take some time after a sparring session to reveal your past lives with each other. He told you about his life as a neurosurgeon living in New York. How he lived a luxurious life with fancy dinners and fast cars. He told you how it was his ignorance and his need for speed that got him into trouble, getting into an accident that would permanently damage and ruin his hands. He would never be able to perform surgery again, one of the few things that gave his life meaning. He told you how he sold almost everything he owned to see all of the specialists to try and save his hands. How he failed and spent what he had left on a one-way ticket to Kathmandu, wanting to find a cure. He told you about how he thought he would never get that chance again, to hold the scalpel still in his hands again, or a pen.

He looked over to you, catching you looking at his fingers before asking you about how you ended up in Kamar-Taj. It had been a secret to most about what happened to you, having only told The Ancient One about what happened to you. You turn to face away from him, pulling the down the sleeve at your shoulder, showing him scarring. You described to him how you had been attacked on a hiking trip in Alaska by a bear. You felt his fingers shakily trace the scars that were exposed before you told him more about the incident. The scars were not just on your shoulder, but across your back, your abdomen had a couple of scars from where the bear's claws had torn you open. You pulled the sleeve back up after he pulled his hand back, turning to face him. You had always worn your hair down, though being told it would hinder you in sparring (which it did). But you gathered your hair, holding it up in a ponytail with one hand, looking to the left as you sowed him the faint scar on the right side of your neck, reaching up to your ear. After a moment or two, you let go of your hair, looking back at him, your eyes meeting his icy blue irises. Your guide on your hike had been drunk, something you didn't find out about until after waking up in a hospital covered in dressings head to toe. The bear killed him first, leaving you out in the wilderness by yourself as the bear ate the corpse of your guide. You were found by park rangers, having mustered enough strength to grab the flare gun you had packed into your bag and shoot the flare into the sky.

After sharing these stories with each other, you both felt a little bit more comfortable around each other. You both trained as hard as you could, both having to find answers and new strengths. Stephen had asked you if you wanted to help him at the New York Sanctum after becoming its new master, but you declined his offer, knowing that while he was more advanced than you, you had so much more to learn. Though, it wouldn't be long until you were stationed at the New York Sanctum by Wong, feeling as if you and Strange had much to learn from each other.

When Thanos attacked, Stephen told you to stay in the Sanctum to protect it as he and Wong went out to battle. The last thing you could remember was arguing with him as he, Wong, and the sentient Cloak of Levitation headed towards the portal "This is unfair Strange, I can protect the public too. You won't keep me from joining you." His reply was muffled as he walked through the portal, it closing behind him.

That was three years ago. You last saw Doctor Stephen Strange three years ago, having been upset at him for keeping you from the battle. And you regret yelling at him. How were you to know that would be the last time you saw him? How were you to know that Wong was going to be spared by Thanos' wrath? Why were you? These were the questions that kept you up at night, haunting your mind every waking second.

Wong came walking up the stairs, two books in one hand, and a cup of chai tea in the other. He made his way around the landing before reaching you, sitting at the desk facing the window. "I knew I would find you here." He spoke, the calming voice he was known for. He set the tea down next to you, the saucer it was on also had a little biscoff cookie. "You won't retain much of anything without something good to drink."

You smiled looking at him. "Thank you," you replied, happily taking the tea into your hands and taking a sip. It was your favorite drink, made your preferred way, cinnamon chai tea with a splash of cream. The spices filled your insides, making you feel warm. You had been missing warmth from your life for...

Wong took a seat on the couch next to the desk you were at, a reading corner you made. "I can't imagine why you wouldn't be up, if not for the thought of Strange." He spoke, taking the books he had and sitting them down next to him. "I have to ask, why do you let these thoughts consume you?"

You sit up a little straighter in your chair, turning to look at him. "Stephen helped me. He made me realize that my accident was never just an accident. I thought he was just talking out of fear or realization of his own accident. He would have never become a sorcerer if not for his accident, let alone Sorcerer Supreme-"

"Which we know I'm better," Wong stated, trying to make you laugh a little. His ploy worked, bringing a chuckle from you.

You nodded at Wong before continuing. "I will never measure up to his level, nowhere be as strong as he is. But I owe it to him, there has to be a way to bring him back, and everybody else."

Wong reached his hand out, cupping your arm under his palm. "Strange is not strong, he is lucky. Everything that he knows came from practice and study. I've never known anybody to study as much as he did, but if I had to say a name, it would be yours." He told you. This confession made your stomach flip, your eyes shifting to meet Wong's. You didn't know how to respond, so he took advantage of the silence. "Strange made me come back to the Sanctum, after going with Tony Stark and the spider-kid. He told me to watch over you, make sure nothing happened to you."

You leaned back in your seat some, having never heard this before. Stephen wanted Wong to protect you, make sure nothing happened to you? Did this mean...

The rooftop gardens were beautiful, one of your favorite places to escape to when you needed fresh air. It was always nosey though with the echoes of the hustle-and-bustle of the city coming through the alleyways. Sunsets were always beautiful to you, looking at the different colors that painted the sky always fascinated you. You were terrible at painting when you were in school, why did most of the art classes involve paint? Why couldn't your paintings ever remotely look like the sky as it did now?

You were brought out of your thoughts when the door opened up, a familiar low tone voice speaking to you. "Care for some company?" Stephen asked.

You looked over at him before patting the seat next to you with your hand, then making sure your belt and garment pieces didn't lay across the bench. Your garments, like most of everybody else's, came from Kamar-Taj. They were maroon in color, having three layers you wore. It was a good thing they were all light or else you would be constantly sweating. Stephens was blue, a mix of dark and light tones. The same three pieces he wore were almost identical to yours. Or was it the other way around?

Stephen strode over to where you sat on the bench, his boot steps echoing slightly. He was without the cloak this time, something that wasn't totally abnormal about him. The cloak had a mind of its own, able to live freely on its own. Stephen took a seat next to you, looking across the skyline with you. "You know, in my old penthouse across the city, I would have never taken the time to stop and watch the sunset or sunrise." He said, his hands sitting in his lap. He looked over to you, his signature smirk painted on his face. "But a sly bunny made me stop one day and stare."

You pulled your gaze away from the horizon to turn and look at him. "And a dumb fox made me stop drinking coffee after six at night, which I'm sure was still the wrong advice," you replied, both having used the nicknames the other gave. The two of you had been through a lot in their past lives, but they didn't let that ruin their lives today. You looked down at his hands, trembling after a long day of spell maintenance. You picked his left hand up, holding it between both of yours. Your thumb delicately traced over the scars of his hand. You were the only one he let touch his scars because you knew how much pain could be inflicted with a simple touch. But your touch was soothing to him. "Or maybe I haven't given it enough time." You added, looking back into his eyes.

He shook his head a little, "I told you that three days ago."

You gave a little sigh before leaning your head against his shoulder, your hands still holding his left hand, though now sewing your fingers in between his. It was almost as if the spaces between his hands fit yours perfectly. It was amazing that just a year ago, the two of you were barely acquainted with each other. Now you were both living in the Sanctum of New York City, protecting the world from any otherworldly threats. And you were sitting next to each other, enjoying the company and the atmosphere.

Stephen continued on. "There has been something I've been meaning to ask you, y/n," he said, which brought you out of your calming thoughts. You sat up, his other hand reaching out to now cup your hands in his. He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours. It was as if he was searching into your soul. What could it be he wanted to know? "That day, in Kamar-Taj, when you showed me your scars... Did you tell anybody there about how you ended up there? Or why you sought them out?"

You looked at him a little puzzled, wondering why he would be asking about it now. You shook your head, "No, why do you ask?"

He held your hands, resting them between both of your bodies. He looked down for a moment before looking you back into your eyes. "Why did you share that with me?"

You then nodded, gathering your thoughts briefly before responding. "You shared your most vulnerable moment with me. I didn't expect you to if I'm being honest. I thought that by sharing my story would make you feel... well, less lonely." You told him.

Then, the most unexpected thing happened. Stephen brought your hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your palm. He slowly lowered your hands, stroking the back of your palm with his thumb. He had been feeling lonely for a long time, having ruined his relationship with Dr. Christine Palmer, by pushing her out of his life. He didn't have many friends that remained loyal to him after his accident. He did feel lonely in the world.

The air around the both of you began to feel icy as the sun fell below the horizon line, the lights of the city illuminating the sky from the ground up. You were searching his face for any answers to your unspoken questions, trying to find any hints about what was going through his mind. He finally broke the silence. "It was the first conversation I had where I didn't feel pity. You took a general interest in what happened to me, and instead of saying how sorry you were, you showed me your story. You gave me the hope that it wasn't the end for me."

You were shocked by this revelation, not knowing how to respond. You were yearning to know where this conversation was going. He leaned toward you, pressing his forehead against yours. You never knew Stephen to be affectionate. You believed he was still in love with Dr. Palmer. Why was he being this way with you? Not that you didn't want to be this way with him. You have had a crush on him since you first saw him. He was very handsome, somebody who was out of your league. But he was here, sharing this incredibly affectionate moment with you.

"Stephen.." you called his name, your eyes looking down at your hands that were enclosed with his. He hummed in response, awaiting your next words. You were scared about what would happen next, and how the both of you would respond. "... what are we doing? What have we become?"

Stephen pulled back a little bit, one hand slipping away from yours as he pushed some hair out of your face. "I don't know. You tell me," he asked with slightly parted lips.

Everything came over you at that moment, not listening to your brain that was telling you to stop but listening to your heart which yelled go. You leaned forward, closing the distance between the two of you, capturing his lips between your own. It was a gentle kiss, not knowing how he would respond. You broke the kiss, though it wouldn't be for long. His free hand cupped the side of your face as he pressed another kiss to your lips, then another one, and a third one.

The city was alive beneath the two of you, as you and Stephen had your intimate moment, left to figure out what happened next.

You took another drink of the chai Wong made for you. "The last thing I told him was out of anger, Wong. I can never take that back." It didn't feel fair that he was gone and you were still alive, living a true apocalyptic nightmare.

Wong removed his hand from your arm, grabbing the book on top of the pile he brought with him. "You are right, y/n. You will never be able to take that back, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to bring them back so you can right what you feel is wrong." He opened the book, having gone back to the page he left off on. "But, some sleep would not hurt either."

You knew Wong meant well. It's what Stephen would say. he always commented on your terrible sleeping habits. "Oh, we will find a way. We are going to bring him home." You told Wong before grabbing your favorite bookmark and placing it between the pages you were currently reading. You closed the book, leaving it on the desk. You stood up, grabbing the teacup, saucer, and cookie. You had turned on your heels, beginning to head for the staircase.

"You know," Wong began to speak, "It is custom to bow to the Sorcerer Supreme upon greeting and leaving them."

You shook your head, turning to face him. "Normally I would, but I've been awake for fifty-two hours, and you just told me to get some sleep. I'll make up for it later." You replied before heading to the stairs again, walking down them and heading for your room, across the hall from Stephen's room. As your hand catches your doorknob, you pause to look at Stephen's door. You fight back the emotions, fight back the tears that threaten to escape your eyes. "I'll get you home, I swear I will. Whatever it takes, my dumb fox."

#stephen strange x reader #dr strange x reader #stephen strange x y/n #dr strange x y/n #wong #marvel

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