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spctrsgf · 11 months

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morning banter

summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)

a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy

Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.

Don’t worry about it.

“Jake.”

Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Yeah you do.

“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”

Don’t bring me into this.

C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.

“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”

Go to sleep, puta.

“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”

You deserved it.

“You wanna know what you deserve?”

Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?

“A fucking pun–”

His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears.

But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in.

Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses.

Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.

“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.

HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.

“Sure, whatever.”

Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.

Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.

Or, he tried to.

“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold.

Marc freezes. “Baby?”

“Mmmmm?”

“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”

“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”

He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”

“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”

“Do we?”

“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”

“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”

You giggle softly. “That’s true.”

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”

“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again.

“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.

“Nope.”

His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”

“Not even because I’m asking you?”

“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”

“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise.

You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”

“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”

“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”

Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”

“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”

“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”

“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.

He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.

“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”

“You can't leave me hanging like that!”

You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”

For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.

“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”

You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”

He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”

“You manipulated me! I hate you.”

“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”

“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”

“Hey, let’s calm down–”

“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”

Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.

“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”

He nods frantically. “Of course–”

“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.

The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?

It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl.

translations (HELP I FORGOT):

es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit

puta - bitch

i felt very fancy using these

#moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #steven grant imagine #jake lockley imagine #moon knight tv #marvel #marc spector fluff #marc spector x you #oscar issac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar issac x reader

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readerthatreadsss · 8 months

Text

Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

#steven grant smut #moon knight smut #smut #fluff #marvel #imagine #oneshot #steven grant #moon boys #moon knight x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight fic #moon knight #oscar issac smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction

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lizispunkk · 2 months

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Guys he’s so beautiful I cannot anymore chat

#miguel o’hara blurbs #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #nathan bateman x reader #orestes x reader #poe dameron x reader #steven grant x reader #miguel o’hara imagines #oscar isaac the man you are #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac fluff #oscar isaac x reader

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angelickks · 10 months

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Miguel Headcanons: Mrs. O'Hara

1k+ - husband! miguel o'hara x spider-woman wife! reader

summary: miguel o'hara and his wife, but make it headcanons! warnings: some swearing. descriptions of two injuries but nothing graphic! that lovey dovey shit. overall fluff. not proofread terrible. lmk if i missed some! notes: this is slight au, meaning i chose peace but i don't think y'all will entirely mind. i am in no way fluent in spanish, as i only know very few words and phrases so i figure i throw that out there. i think i covered all my bases so enjoy, muah!

pt 2!

To any newcomers, learning that Miguel O’Hara had a wife was a concept many couldn’t wrap their heads around…

Could you blame them?

He meant business, he was cutthroat with the way he ran things and no one was safe from his wrath

Well….unless you were his wife

“MIGUEL!” Jess chuckled at the rare use of your husband’s name on your tongue. “Shut it!” He practically hissed at her, she sent him an unimpressed look but that quickly changed when you came into view. She sent you a teasing smile followed by a “Hey mama.” You gave a quick peck to her cheek before your eyes landed on your husband. He cleared his throat and swallowed at the annoyed look painted across his wife's face. “Mi vida,” he simpered but was quickly shut down, “Cut the shit.” He knew the exact reason for this sudden intrusion, you caught wind of what happened between Miles and Miguel earlier that afternoon. Unbeknownst to Miguel, Peter B. may have ratted to the infamous Mrs. O’Hara that her husband might’ve tried to throw a table at Miles, again. Why? Well, Miles had tried to get into Miguel’s good graces the way he knew best, food of course. That brings the couple to right now, you giving your husband a look that meant hell while he stood there looking like a kid caught red-handed by his mother. You wasted no time, “Throwing tables at kids Miguel? Miles of all people?” Jess let out a boisterous laugh as she exited Miguel’s office, Miguel shot her another snarl when she turned back to make a face at him. “Don’t get mad at her! We discussed this: just because you’ve got a temper doesn’t mean you start with KIDS!” Now you were pacing back and forth rambling, frustration oozing off your figure. He sighed in defeat and touched your waist gently, halting your pacing. You narrowed your eyes at your husband, quickly glancing at the hand on your waist. “I’m sorry mi vida, you’re right. I take full responsibility for my actions but-” You shot a icy glare at him, effectively shutting down whatever he was gonna say to even try and justify it. He dropped his head but was pleasantly surprised by the soft kiss on his forehead. You wrapped your arms around his waist and planted another kiss on the wide expanse of your husband's chest. “Yeah…shut up,” He huffed out a chuckle at your comment and caressed the back of your neck, claws lightly scratching you. You gave him a sweet smile before shooting a web at the neck of his suit and gave him a particularly hard tug so he was eye level with you, “Pull that shit again and you can spend a couple of nights in this “office”, mi amor.” You pecked the corner of his mouth before releasing his suit and untangling yourself from his arms. “It’s lunchtime, I brought food. Come.” He grunted as you made your way over to his slightly dented table placed in the corner of his workspace with a bag he hadn't noticed until now. He saw a flash of your webs attached to his chest before he was pulled to the spot next to you.

You were easily a favorite at HQ

You were unabashedly sweet, easy to talk to, and overall had a great energy

Not to mention, you were amazing on the field

Personality wise you were the COMPLETE opposite of your counterpart

And that's why it was so hard to believe why you of all people were with a man like your husband

That’s how you earned the nickname, so lovingly given to you by none other than Hobie, boss-lady. Something he didn’t say lightly, as he never referred to Miguel as “boss” despite him being the one that ran the place

This peeved Miguel, not because he didn’t agree with you being “boss-lady” but simply because it was Hobie

As for Gwen, Miles, and Pav…..you were their work-mom

You seemed to always be saving their asses from your husband's temper, for which they were very grateful

While at work he was well…Miguel

Brooding, perpetually stressed, a void of emotion rlly

But with you, it was the complete opposite

Anyone in a hundred-mile radius could see that Miguel O’Hara was putty in the hands of his wife

Hobie, Gwen, Miles, and Pav had just gotten back from what they deemed a successful mission, but to Miguel successful was the last word he’d use to even describe it. So here they were in his office being reprimanded, again.

“All four of you went against almost every single protocol in the damn book, protocols set in place to prevent your mistakes! Once again, disobeying strict orders to follow them!”

The sight found below Miguel’s platform was not a new one, not even close. Nor was it new when you just so happened to swing in at the right moment.

“Amor! You forgot the bag I packed for you this morning” Your sweet smile lightened up the dark room. The group watched as their boss become the walking definition of heart eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Feigning confusion while subtly shooting the four a knowing look. “You? Never love. Come, let me see you” Your husband beckoned, holding out a hand for you. Your webs glowed as they pulled you up the platform, you swiftly reached for his hand and pulled him into you. You made quick work of maneuvering his back toward the group. They watched as you placed a kiss on his collarbone lovingly, quickly sticking your head over your husband’s bulky shoulder and mouthing the words, “Out, now!” Disguising it as another hug.

They wasted no time doing just that, earning you hushed sighs of relief and a small salute.

Some perks came with working with your significant other

Seeing and being with each other often

Constantly checking up on each other, fair share of making sure the other is eating and getting an ample amount of sleep

Looking out for each other in the field blah blah blah

You always looked out for Miguel, but you knew he could handle his own.

Miguel on the other hand? Easily the multiverse's biggest worry wart

The poor man has lost so much that he cannot bare the thought of losing his driving force.

This meaning every scratch or bruise, he’s waiting on you hand and foot

You came back from a seemingly easy mission with Noir. It wasn’t something you two couldn’t handle, it was simple. Catch the anomaly and report back to HQ. It was just this time, you returned with a gash in your thigh and a shitty bruise on your cheekbone. It was lightwork in your eyes, the perks of the job.

Yeah, not for your husband.

The minute you walked into HQ, you were met with the sight of your brooding partner donning his signature snarl. Not pointed at you but at your partner. You rolled your eyes at his antics making quick work to defend Noir from your husband’s fury. “How about you go get this thing situated Noir?" Motioning to the irate anomaly in tow, "Gotta deal with the big guy.” He nodded quickly before walking off, avoiding Miguel’s hard glare.

“Don’t get mad at him, it’s not his fault. Blame the ugly thing we just captured.” Attempting to soothe your beast of a husband, quickly picking up on his clenched fists. He swiftly reaches for your jaw, holding it gently to scan for any further injuries. You reach for his clenched fist and massaged his palm to release the tension there. In a flash, he places a kiss on your forehead and you quickly pick up on his ragged and uneven breathing, frowning as you recognize the tell-tale sign of his anxiety. He softly releases your jaw from his grip and rests the same hand on your lower back, practically dragging you to the med bay nearby. He got there hastily, keeping it together to stay mindful of the gash on your thigh.

It was hard to hand you off to the doctors, who stitched and cleaned you up in time. But not fast enough for Miguel, simultaneously vexed and impatient, who insisted (basically threatened, but ok) that he stay in the corner closest to you. As per usual, you took it like a champ, unlike your very frigid husband menacingly staring down at the unfazed doctor. They gave you some final instructions on how to keep the wound sanitary and to stay off the field for a week or two while insisting you stay a night in the med bay (this is upon Miguel's request threat so he could have supplies readily available if anything were to happen) After the doctor left your side, Miguel was right there softly caressing your unbruised cheek, causing you to melt into his touch. “Love, you realize that the doctor is just doing their job and you can’t just stitch me up yourself right? No matter how talented you think you are,” You said, sleepily teasing Miguel. He shot you a very unenthusiastic look, rubbing his thumb over your eyelid gently to coax you to close your eyes. “Shut up, go to sleep muñeca” He placed another kiss on your forehead, making his way to your cheeks while being sure to avoid the bruised one before making it to your lips. "Rude ass" you murmured, he lightly poked your nose with the pad of his thumb. "I love you endlessly, mi vida" he whispered you opened your eyes one last time and gave him a knowing smirk, "I love you, I'm sorry for worrying you amor. It's going to be okay."

He spent that whole night at your side, woke you up once to get you to change into more comfortable clothes, and put you right back to sleep. He had spent a few hours rubbing your feet and softly singing to you in Spanish in the dimly lit room. He didn’t sleep as great as you wanted him to, in fact, woke up with an annoying ache in his back from the shitty chair he slept in.

Safe to say you spent about two weeks in the "office", helping with paperwork. All while trying to convince your unrelenting husband to let you massage the new annoying knot in his back. which he let you help with after a few empty threats and a lot of kisses.

BONUS:

A few days after the group’s mission, the last thing they expected to see was their boss in the cafeteria unfortunately unaccompanied by you, walking towards them.

“Next time you guys decide to break protocol, don’t expect my wife to save you.” He grunted, his fangs flashing slightly. They watched worriedly as he sauntered over to where you sat five tables over.

Now it was your turn to look like a kid caught red-handed.

xtras! i had sm fun writing this its 12am and i have work tmr but oh well. possible pt. 2?

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eyelessfaces · 1 year

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come out

jake lockley x reader

summary: you don’t see Jake very often, he still doesn’t feel confident and comfortable enough to front frequently; his visits are not a regular occurrence but when it’s him, you know it. you couldn’t be mad at him. not when he had been hidden in this body for too long, feelings buried deep as he watched Marc and Steven express them freely from a distance while he had to drown them down and suffer in silence.

warnings: ending fades to implied smut, sexual innuendos

tags: tooth rotting fluff, literally no plot just fluff, soft!jake, seriously this man needs to be held

word count: 0.9k

The back of Jake's knuckles brushed lightly against your cold cheek. You stirred as you rubbed your eyes, still hazy from sleep.

You knew it was Jake from the soft and aching look in his gaze– you don’t see Jake very often, he still doesn’t feel confident and comfortable enough to front frequently; his visits are not a regular occurrence but when it’s him, you know it.

You smiled endearingly at him, brushing back the curls falling over his forehead.

“‘Morning, Jake” you murmured, smoothing your hand along his bicep as his elbow was propped beside you, planted into the mattress.

Jake felt his heart flutter at the demonstration of you recognizing him so easily.

“‘Morning cariño” he whispered as he leaned to leave a kiss at the bridge of your nose. “How’d you know it was me?” he asked, letting his fingertips travel down the side of your face.

“An intuition” you affirmed, leaning into his touch. “I missed you.” you breathed out, heart aching as the words escaped your lips.

“I know” he complied as he shamefully closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry querida” he apologized, looking right back into your eyes, searching for a trace of blame in them.

There was none.

You couldn’t blame him, you couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he had been hidden in this body for too long, feelings buried deep as he watched Marc and Steven express them freely from a distance while he had to drown them down and suffer in silence.

“I know it’s hard for you,” you said, mirroring his actions and bringing your hand to the side of his face. “But I don’t want you to push yourself too much. Take your time, okay honey?”

He nodded, a pained look covering his face, and nuzzled your hand leaving a kiss at your palm.

“Thank you” he mumbled against your skin before leaving another kiss there.

You chuckled and buried your hand into his curls. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For being so considerate. For understanding me.” he affirmed, smiling weakly. “Us.” he corrected himself.

You hooked your hands behind his neck and brought him down to your lips. He kissed them with as much passion and devotion he could give you, cherishing the intimacy and rarity of the moment.

His necklace dangled under your chin and you lightly tugged on it, drawing a sharp gasp from him before he smirked into the kiss and flicked his tongue over your bottom lip in need to feel you even more.

It didn’t take long for him to lick into your mouth, tasting you thoroughly until he ran out of breath.

He pulled away but remained close, nuzzling your neck as you ran your hands along his bare back, nails softly scraping against his warm skin just the way you knew he liked.

“I love you” he mumbled into your neck. He had wanted to say it, but he hadn’t expected the words to escape his mouth so easily. It needed to be said anyways.

He left a kiss in the crook of your neck, punctuating his previous words.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and one of your hands mindlessly traveled to his curls like it was a reflex. You scraped your nails against his scalp, and soothingly swiped your thumb over his shoulder blade with your other hand.

“I love you too Jake” you replied, looking down at the man buried into your neck.

He adored when you held him like that; just you and him, nothing else around, no one else around, no Khonshu, no danger, no blood to shed– just him resting in your arms, cherishing his turn at fronting without it being an emergency to protect his alters; just him living his life with you, taking the time to breathe. He could get used to it.

“I would love to see you come out more often,” you affirmed as he looked back at you. “I know it’s hard and I’m not putting you under pressure but–”

“–Yeah” he nodded, pinching his lips. “I know” he said in a whisper as he dived to kiss your lips again, his fingers holding your chin while he did so. He pulled away, threading his fingers through your hair as he remained leaning over you. “Truth is– I want you all the time” he said with a small grin growing at the corner of his mouth. “All the fucking time.” he added through gritted teeth.

“Well… You can have me all you want now” you whispered with a small chuckle, and you knew from there that the atmosphere had changed. Jake stopped his kisses and stayed still for a moment. Did you break him?

“...Jake?” you called, confused at his silent state. Jake wasn’t very talkative but this was strange.

“...All I want ?” he finally asked back, his dark eyes carefully examining your face.

You chuckled softly. “All you want.” you affirmed, stroking the back of his neck.

A small smirk grew on his lips. “Mmmh okay. Interesting. Very interesting” he hummed as his hands met your hips, gently kneading the skin there before diving right back to your neck, leaving open mouthed, warm kisses there.

You almost choked on air at the sudden feeling of his teeth nipping at your skin– you should have expected it, it’s Jake after all.

“Jake!” you exclaimed, uncontrolled giggles escaping your mouth.

“I better take advantage of that free time then, mh?” he asked before kissing your cheek, tangling his legs with yours.

“Yeah you better” you teased, only hoping all of this will get him to front more often.

It was only a matter of time before Jake finally felt legitimate fronting as much as Marc and Steven did.

—

moon knight taglist:

@apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt

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missjadesfics · 2 months

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Paul Atreides

We Can Share - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Paul Atreides Y/n is Feyd and Paul's childhood friend; rather than choose one, why not have both?

We Made an Agreement - Paul Atreides x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n and Paul are married, both agreeing they can sleep with whomever they like. The reader finds comfort with Duncan. But Paul questions if the agreement works for him anymore.

My Gem - Paul Atreides x Reader Paul asks for the Emperor's eldest daughter, Y/n, for her hand in marriage.

Don't play the Fool - Paul Atreides x Reader Paul and Y/n are in an arranged marriage, and Paul notices his bride is unbothered by it. Maybe he can change her thoughts; after all, marriage can't be all that bad.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

His Little Wife - Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader Y/n is Paul's twin sister and is sent to marry Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

We Can Share - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Paul Atreides Y/n is Feyd and Paul's childhood friend; rather than choose one, why not have both?

Delicate Feelings - Feyd-Rautha x Reader Y/n is to wed Feyd-Rautha; intentionally, she is frightened, but Feyd begins to fall in love with her. When a man makes a move on the reader, Feyd reminds him; that he doesn't share.

Our Na-Baroness - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n is arranged to marry Feyd, and her lover Duncan goes as her personal guard to keep her safe. When Feyd learns of the lover's relationship, he ensures everyone understands where they belong.

Yours Truly, Feyd - Feyd-Rautha x Reader (Bridgerton-inspired AU) Feyd-Rautha, who hasn't felt the need for marriage, attends a courting ball to keep in his uncle's good graces. Y/n, on the other hand, has dreamed of her first courting ball, her debut to all the eligible lords. But falling in love with someone without intentions of marriage while thinking they don't reciprocate your feelings is silly, right?

His Sweet Kiss - Feyd-Rautha x Reader Y/n witnesses the attack on Arrakis, hoping to escape and find Paul. She is captured by the Harkonnen soldiers. And the future Na-Baron takes an interest in her.

Sandstorms aren't all that bad - Feyd-Rautha x Reader When Feyd-Rautha and Y/n are stuck in a cave during a sandstorm on Arrakis, they both confess their feelings for one another and find a way to pass the time.

Duncan Idaho

The Sword Master and the Ward - Duncan x Atreides!Ward Reader Duncan Idaho, the Atreides sword master, begins an illicit affair with Duke Leto's ward Y/n

Our Baroness - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n is arranged to marry Feyd, and her lover Duncan goes as her personal guard to keep her safe. When Feyd learns of the lover's relationship, he ensures everyone understands where they belong.

You will never lose me - Duncan Idaho x Reader Escaping from the attack on Arrakis, Y/n Atreides is reunited with Duncan Idaho and living amongst the Fremen in Sietch Tabr. While Paul and Jessica work with the Fremen about the Lisan-Al Giab prophecy, Y/n and Duncan grow closer, revealing hidden feelings for one another.

Leto Atreides

Feyd-Rautha looking after sick reader headcanons | coming soon

Dune men reacting to their so saying " i love you" | coming soon

Dune men looking after reader on their period | coming soon

Duncan Idaho x Reader - You will never lose me | coming soon

#dune #dune part one #dune part two #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x reader #leto atreides #leto atreides x reader #dune imagine #dune oneshots #dune smut #dune fluff #jason momoa #oscar isaac #timothee chalamet #austin butler

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jake-g-lockley · 11 months

Note

Can I have prompt 23 and 27 with Poe Dameron, with a side of enemies to lovers please?

Feels Right (Poe Dameron x reader)

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Prompts: "you are, without a doubt, the most annoying person i've ever crossed paths with. and don't even get me started on the sound of your voice." and "please shut up. i can't stand how appealing your voice is."'

A/N: HALLU! Firstly, thank you for this request nonnie! Sorry it took me so freaking long to complete, had a busy few months :”)

Warnings: MDNI, smut, a little bit of dub-con, dry humping, dom!Poe, sub!reader, bondage, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, a bit of angst, lots of fluff, swearing, jealousy, possessive Poe.

Word count: 5.3k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stand his voice. You wanted him to shut up, your only thought in your head was "Please shut up. I can't stand how appealing your voice is.” You couldn’t stand the way he looked at everyone, so full of hope. You couldn’t stand the way his curls bounced when he turned his head or the way his eyes sparkled when they came in contact with yours.

It was all too much.

You raised your hand the second he asked whether there were other questions. He narrowed his eyes but like the good receptive leader he was, he nodded at you.

“This is less of a question and more of a request. I’d just like to say that I need people to start keeping the hangar clean and stop parking x-wings wherever you please, only for me to wake up in the morning and dock the ships for you. What are y’all? A bunch of five year olds?” you huffed, your hands on your hips.

You were addressing everyone in the room, but your eyes were steadily trained on the Black Leader, who had a small smirk on his face. He walked around the table and your eyes followed him while you spoke, holding your head high as he approached you.

“You heard your commander, folks!” he addressed the room with one of his charming smiles.

Leaning in, he whispers. “Although, I can’t say I’ll be the one keeping the promise, darling.”

You stiffened at the sound of his voice. He was too close and you wanted to body slam him onto the floor so that you would not have to hear him for a while.You flinched slightly as he brought his hands together for a clap.

“All right, everyones dismissed.”

You stood rooted to your spot, glaring at the General as he went to pick up his data pad.

“Oh fuck you, Dameron.” you mumbled to his back.

“Say it with a little more chest and I’ll be down, Commander.” he turned his head to you and smirked.

Those lips.

Those fucking lips.

The one time you caved into them made you regret every possible living day you’ve had since. The way those lips had carved out the secret between you two made it seem unbreakable. You craved the taste, but you were too stubborn to satisfy the craving and you had a feeling he knew you were holding back, the passing glances and glares holding something a little more than just resentment.

“You, Dameron, are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I've ever crossed paths with. and don't even get me started on the sound of your voice." you snap.

“Hmm, would you like my voice to say something only for your ears, sweet angel?” He replied so smoothly that you almost let yourself smile, but you resisted, clenching your jaw hard.

You scowled through your heating cheeks and you let out a sharp breath as the door closed behind him. Over the past few years, that voice has been the bane of your existence. Always saying something cocky, vain or insulting. That didn’t help to cure your insatiable need for him though.

You’d spend your nights dreaming away about the way he would sound, if you ever got the chance to get under him. How would his lips feel against the shell of your ear if he were to keep his promise and whisper all the beautiful things you'd want him to do to you? Would he whimper if you tug those curls just right or would he grunt and growl if you scratched that glorious back of his? These questions kept you awake and ebbed away at your sanity for years. You glanced at the clock and rubbed your cheek, groaning slightly at the way you had let this ordinary man completely ruin your relatively stable mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You stared with sleep laden eyes at the x-wing that was parked smack in the middle of the hangar. You scowled again at Poe’s mischief and mumbled curses under your breath as you climbed the ladder up into the cockpit. You slid into his seat and took a deep breath as Poe’s scent filled your nostrils. You smile to yourself, tracing the joystick before you with your fingers.

You don't actually hate him, every single good memory you’ve had has him in it. You do however, enjoy the back and forth the both of you had going on for the past few months due to your sudden promotions. Secretly, you were in love with Poe, his stupid boyish swagger made your heart ache, especially when he used that god awful smile on you.

Slowly, everything was becoming more and more overwhelming, lulling you into sleep. You turned and pressed your nose into the seat, breathing in the soothing scent as your eyes fluttered close.

“Just for a few minutes…” you mumbled, and soon the cockpit of the x-wing was filled with the sounds of your snores.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Poe was waiting for you at the hanger, watching for any movement from his x-wing. He loved teasing you like this, smiling to himself when he sees you unhappily wadling in your sleep shirt towards his ship. He waited for you to come down, so that he could scare you. He frowned when you took too long, silences ringing in his ear when his ship didn’t start moving. Alarm bells started going off in his head and he rushed to the x-wing and quickly climbed up, only to see you sleeping there.

He stared at you for a while, leaning against his x-wing as you snored softly in his seat, nuzzing your nose into his chair. He didn’t make a mistake, kissing you that one fateful day, pretending to be drunk to maybe earn your favour for the night. He knew he couldn’t have you the second your lips pressed harder against his, igniting something that he could not explain, alongside with the urge to keep you safe. He pushed you away that night, vowing to never turn back to you until he could keep you and his people safe.

The general sighed and flipped open a dummy switch by the control, a switch that you had never touched before, to reveal your face. He pressed his two fingers to his lips and to the picture of your smiling face, just like he always did before he took flight, followed by the softest kiss on your forehead, something totally unorthodox to him, something that he would talk himself out of if he ever gave his heart a chance to listen to his brain. Poe waited for a while for you to stir but breathed out a sigh of relief when you didn’t.

He wanted to keep his distance, he really did. But you kept him up all night, the way you gasped into his mouth when the kiss got a little more hungry never really left his mind, rolling over and over like a broken tape recorder. He wanted to hold you in his arms and keep his promise, to keep you alive and beautiful as always. To never see you cower away in pain or suffering ever again. How could he do that when everything went radioactive around him?

He wanted you so bad, and he was running out of ideas and ways to stay out of your lane. Poe sighed again, reaching out to move away a strand of hair that fell out of place.He leaned back and watched you a little longer until his eyes grew heavy with sleep too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up in your bed, completely confused with your bearings. You had a weird dream, being in Poe’s x-wing, being carried out by him. You tried to go through the dream in order, piecing together whether it was real or not. You finally shook your head, figuring that you probably dreamt it up in your sleep-addled brain.

You sigh and decide to get up and start your day, pulling your datapad to check your schedule. There were going to be new recruits today and you had to greet them and assign them to their positions. It was the easiest of your jobs, your smile genuine as your heart gets lighter now that the galaxy was healing. You quickly got up and got ready, to show your best to the new recruits.

You stood poised in your uniform waiting for the transport to touch down at the hangar when suddenly you felt a strong presence behind you. You didn’t need to be a master of the force to know that Poe Dameron was standing behind you, his gaze piercing the back of your head making your smile slightly. You raise your chin slightly as the door to the transport drops and a few individuals walk out. One of them leads the bunch, walking slightly faster and taller towards you. A beautiful woman, her hair cropped short and her sleeves torn up, revealing intricate tattoos. You shoot the woman with your best smile and she grins back.

“Ah, you must be the General, people talk about your greatness but never your beauty. I am Keana and this is my team.” the woman kneels in front of you and takes your hand, planting a soft kiss onto the back of it, making your face heat up at the gesture.

You were quite literally lost for words until you felt someone’s body press against your shoulder.

“That’s because I am the general.” Poe’s voice rang clear and authoritative, and the woman before you quickly stands up and throws Poe a sheepish smile.

“Terribly sorry for the mistake, I assumed that this fine lady here is the general due to her uniform.” Her words made you spin around to see Poe in his flight suit, helmet tucked under his arm and you try hard not to laugh.

While Keana rounded her group, you tip your head towards Poe with a small smile on your face.

“I think she called you ugly, baby.” you whisper and his head turns almost too sharply at your utterance of the nickname.

Poe Dameron was far from ugly. He was indeed one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. His scruffy stubble and flawless boyish curls made him look like an effortless prince. His character and charisma only heightened his attractiveness and he had a smile and glint in his eyes that made him irresistible. Poe rolled his eyes at your statement, a smirk evidently trying not to show on his lips as he tried to hold back his next statement.

“Come on, no snarky remark?” you say, utterly impressed by his control.

Poe gave you a pointed look and sauntered off to his x-wing, which was suspiciously parked in the right spot. You stared a little longer at the pilot, your eyes trailing a little lower than your liking and you pout and turn on your heel to join Keana and her little group for their tour.

You knew the man was up to something but you just could not prove what he was doing, or not doing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

By the time the sun had begun to set, you were completely bugged out. Poe teasing you at any point of day had been a daily occurrence since the both of you touched down onto the base. But today he hadn’t said a word directly to you and you were lying if you weren’t slightly worried about it. He also had been tactfully avoiding you all day and you were positive he was when you swear you saw a rush of orange in your peripheral when you finished your tour.

Fortunately for you, you ran into the best two people that would know where Poe was.

“Finn! Rey! Where’s Dameron?” you panted, running to catch up with them.

“His room, I think. He was weirdly quiet and working on something the last time I saw him.” Finn said and Rey nodded along.

“Room. Got it. Thanks.” you punctuated before running off to Poe’s room.

You gathered yourself when you found Poe’s door, combing your fingers through your hair and then straightening out your blouse before keying in the passcode. You walked through the doorway as soon as the door whoshed open, only to find Poe staring blankly at his datapad on his bed. He didn’t even turn to look at you, his eyes carefully trained onto what he was reading.

“Dameron! Everything okay?” You chirpily asked as you invited yourself to sit at his desk, turning the chair to face him.

The silence that rang after your question was deafening. You narrowed your eyes at the man before you, trying to figure out why he was giving you the silent treatment. You pursed your lips and clicked your tongue as Poe subtly shifted, still paying you no attention at all.

Poe hated the way you called him by his last name. He sure as hell didn’t care if he was addressed with it by any other person, but by you? A fiery rage burned in him, fuelled by the way the new recruit flirted with you and the way you had blushed and flushed even with him standing right behind you. He shouldn’t be this angry, not with you, never with you.

“So the tour went great as usual, Keana is really nice and her team is great, I think that they would do just fine with our people.” You went on, breaking through the silence again as Poe types something into the data pad.

Poe’s anger was slowly growing and he focused all his might into not losing his temper and doing something that he might regret. He continued to ignore you as if you weren’t sitting there with a beautiful smile on your face that was slowly melting into a frown that he equally enjoyed. He saw your hand move and realised that you were waving at him, trying to force his attention to you.

You sighed, still not willing to admit defeat. Your brain races through the scenarios in which you could get the General’s attention when suddenly, all the lights go off, making you gasp. You scrambled off the chair and ran to the door, trying to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

“What, never had a power cut in your life, darling?” Poe’s voice dripped like venom over you from the bed, making you slowly turn around to face him.

He was finally looking at you, a glare of pure disdain etched upon his handsome face that was illuminated by the screen of his data pad, flipped your stomach at its intensity.

Why was he so angry?

His face turns back to the data pad, resuming its previous deadpan expression. You walk over to his bed and sit at the edge, watching quietly as he works, the anger seemingly radiating out of his body and making you feel small.

You blinked after a while, realising that this man actually had no right to be mad at you. All this time, it had been him annoying the hell out of you. Why should you feel small? You straighten your back and scooched closer, your hand near his.

You poked him, digging your finger into his side, only for no response. Whatever he was mad about must be making him really angry, because on a normal day, Poe Dameron would be the most sensitive person on base.

“Daaameron. Dameron, Dameron, Dameron, Dameron.” You jabbed away, but to no avail.

Inside, Poe was enjoying this. He wanted to see how far you would go to gain his attention. Somehow he knew that you were aware of what he was doing because you suddenly stopped your jabbing, your hand dropping back to your side once again.

You took a good look at him, wondering if he was worth the risk of losing everything. Your mind was probably leaning towards your riskier side as you eyed the way he sat, his legs and torso forming a seat that you couldn’t resist wanting to sit on. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you as you quickly climbed into the bed and slid onto his lap. Poe’s eyes widen for a split second and his free hand grasps at your hips as he makes eye contact as he huffs out a breath. Then suddenly, his face goes stoic again.

He turns to his data pad that was still clutched in his other hand and continues to read, as if unbothered by your presence. Your hands bunch up his shirt and you hold onto him as you grimace. You shifted a little in his lap and felt his grip on your hip tighten slightly, making you smirk. A part of you was nervous, being in such a compromising position with your general, but Poe could have thrown you off his body eons ago if he wanted to.

Instead he sat as still as possible, only his eyes and chest slightly moving. If Poe was the one who was nervous, he clearly wasn’t showing it. You blatantly checked him out, his pretty boy curls flopping here and there, the curve of his necklace as it rested against his glorious neck, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the slight part of his plump lips that you oh so craved for, all zeroing you to the point of why you were there in the first place.

You steadied yourself, sliding your hands to either side of his shoulder, feeling the muscles underneath his jacket. Even with you feeling him up, Poe didn’t budge a single inch, his hand now gently resting on the curve of your hip. You eyed Poe’s stubble longingly, your heart thudding inside your chest as you gazed at how perfect the curve of his jaw was. A few of Poe’s fingers lightly squeezed at your hip as if he were daring you to make your next move too.

You figured “Why not.”

What could you possibly lose now, you were already straddling him.

You grabbed at his jacket and leaned in, pressing a feathery kiss to a spot between his neck and where his jaw started, and to your absolute joy, another soft gasp emitting from his lips. You let go of his jacket and let your chest lay flat against his, sliding your hands around his neck and smiling against his neck before pressing another kiss and feeling a light shudder.

“Give up Dameron.” you murmured.

Poe’s eyes remained glued to the datapad but you knew he wasn't concentrating anymore with the way he started to breathe, slow and shallow, as if he were focusing on composing himself. You slowly run your fingers through his locks, your nails grazing the nape of his neck, gently coaxing him to relax when suddenly you feel his breath jump.

“Where’s that aggravating voice of yours now, General?” You purred into his ear and felt a growing hardness beneath you, along with your own swirling heat at the pit of your abdomen.

One of your hands make their way back to his face, gently grabbing at his jaw as you push yourself off him again, effectively grinding your hot core into his just to rile the pilot up. Poe’s eyes were half lidded now and his data pad hung loosely in his grip as his hand had drifted down onto his bed, laying limp. You pushed his chin up, forcing him to make eye contact with you.

When those swirling dark brown eyes snapped to yours, you realised how much trouble you were in, just from a single glance.

“Poe…” you whispered, so softly that you doubted he heard you despite the lack of space between the two of you.

Poe’s free hand snaked up your back and held onto the back of your neck in an instant, pulling you towards him as your lips finally crashed together. The kiss was urgent and Poe wasted no time snaking the hand at your waist around your body to keep you pinned against him, making your mouth drop open, welcoming Poe’s tongue as he pushed himself up to kiss you harder.

You’ve been wanting this for months and the satisfaction that rushed over you was like no other. You didn’t care about the fact that you couldn’t breathe, you just needed to feel him against you. Poe pulls away with a sharp intake of breath as you grind down hard on his growing erection. His eyes were still on yours, piercing right through your soul.

“You’re starting something that you’re gonna regret, sweetheart.” He whispered as he readjusted the way you were straddling him.

“What are you gonna do? Throw me out of the resistance?” You laughed but it died down instantly when a smirk curled itself onto his kiss-addled lips.

Poe had kept everything he felt about you pented up for months and now he was fuelled with a passion like no other. He flipped you over and towered over you, watching as your face went flush and your eyes grew wide.

“Oh you’ll see.” He simply said before leaning down to kiss you again, pressing his entire body against your frame as your hands flew to his hair.

He knew you having your hands in his hair turns you on as much as it does him, but he tutted against your lips and pulled your hands down from his head anyway.

“You're really a brat.” he says lowly.

“Poe please…” you begged him with your eyes, not wanting him to stop.

“Brats don't get to touch me.” He gets on his knees and towered over you, unbuckling his belt as you watched on, completely aroused by the way he tugs it.

He twisted his belt and looped it around the buckle a few times before you knew what he was doing. He slipped the makeshift cuff onto your wrists and secured you to the bed, making you giggle nervously, tugging your wrists and showing you that you were going nowhere.

“There you go, pretty girl.” he smiled cruelly, tapping your cheek with his fingers and you gasped slightly at his demeanour.

“What should I do with you?” he asked mockingly as his hands trailed to your shirt, undoing the first few buttons.

“I’d save the best for last,” he smiled to himself before raising his eyebrows at you and ripping the rest of your shirt. “and I’ll start with my appetiser.”

Your breathing had quickened and you were following Poe’s every move. His fingers had moved to the waistband of your pants and he watched your eyes widen as he hooked his fingers.

“Want me to stop?” Poe questioned, slightly amused by your silence.

“No, no, please don’t!” You whine, your hands tugging uselessly at their bonds.

“As you wish, baby.” he gives you another cheeky smirk before pulling your pants down, along with your underwear, exposing you to the cold air of his room. He was a little further away now and you tried to make your eyes adjust to the dark so that you could see him.

That's when you felt a warm breath against your cunt. You wanted to snap your legs close but strong hands clamped you down and a casual chuckle emitted from your core. A soft kiss in your inner thigh rubbed all the feelings of anxiety away and Poe’s hand began to rub soft circles in the plush of your thigh that made you sink further into his bed.

“Oh, Poe…” was all you could say as his breath fanned your exposed core again.

“That’s right, angel, love hearing you beg for me.” Poe said sultry, almost to your cunt rather than to you.

He pressed a feather light kiss onto your clit and you keened, a soft airy moan filling the room.

“These moans are mine.” Poe said softly from between your legs.

His hands travelled slightly higher, his big palms and fingers feeling the planes of your skin.

“This body is mine.” He said again, almost to himself.

Something clicked inside you and you finally figured out what got you here in the first place.

“You’re mine.” This time, the words were uttered so softly that you were pretty sure you had lost Poe to his own thoughts.

Suddenly with your last act of defiance, you found yourself saying:

“You jealous, pretty boy?”

That's when all hell broke loose and you knew your next few thoughts were going to be incoherent.

Poe’s tongue lapped up your arousal that had been pooling from grinding on him and his words, making you arch your back and push your pussy into his face. His hands travelled back to your core and held you open, as he started to devour you like a man starved.

Nothing in the galaxy could have prepared you for the way your general started eating you out. He ate your spend like he earned it, licking and slurping and moaning into your pussy as if it gave him life to so what he was doing. His beautiful nose rubbed into your clit just right and your whimpering only fuelled his fire because he latched his mouth onto your clit and pushed two fingers into you without a question.

You sweared, through your haze ridden mind, that he smirked against you as you started to writhe and gasp for air as his fingers reached the delicious spot that you yearned for. You were shaking for him within a few minutes, hands desperately trying to grab onto something but failing as your orgasm ripped through you like a hailstorm.

Poe knew you were being too loud but didn’t have the heart or the coherent thought to stop you from screaming his name at the top of your lungs as your clit throbbed between his lips and your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers that were still trying their best to piston in and out of you.

Poe brought you down with several gentle kitten licks and soft kisses onto your skin as his hand began to knead gently at your flesh. He heard his belt rattling again, followed by a soft whimper that tore at his heart strings, causing him to crawl up your body with soft words leaving his lips.

“Okay, baby, you’re okay. You did so well.” he said through your gasps and gently untied you from his bed frame.

He brought your wrist to his lips and kissed them gently before rubbing them comfortingly. Your whimpers quietened down and your soft breathes made Poe smile as he brought his face close to yours.

“Hello.” He says as you pry your eyes open.

“Hey.” You breathe, taking in his pretty face before leaning up for a kiss.

Poe caught your lips gracefully, his kisses softer and more calculated. You tasted yourself on him and you realised what you had just done with your general. Poe could probably sense your hesitation when your side of the kiss had a sense of unsurity.

“Baby?” he asked as he pulled away.

“Is this right?” You asked, searching his eyes.

“Yes, baby, yes. I want this and it feels right to me. Does it feel right to you?” He says, reassuringly rubbing at your cheek with his thumb.

You smiled. This was your Poe.

“Yes, Poe. It feels right.” you giggled slightly as Poe sighed in relief.

“So you gonna fuck me now?” you raised your eyebrow and let your eyes droop, causing the now accustomed smirk to form on Poe’s face with your words.

“Didn’t think you’d ask.” Poe answered in his usual confident tone.

Poe got rid of his pants faster than you could ever imagine. To say that you were slightly intimidated by his size was definitely an understatement. He reached over you to his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, slipping it on and letting his length drop between the both of you.

You stared incredulously at his cock that was laid out on your stomach. You’d definitely feel him in your guts for days after this. You found yourself trailing a hand down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around him to test his weight.

Poe moaned dangerously low as you started to stroke his cock, his head thrown back almost immediately. You stroked him a few more times before lining up his tip at your entrance, taking your time as you slowly let him push himself in.

“Maker, Poe.” You cried as he slowly bottomed out, never feeling this full in your entire life.

“It's okay, baby, I’m here.” Poe’s voice was strained from the way your pussy gripped around him and the both of you knew it was only a matter of a few minutes before you both were pushed past breaking point.

You nodded and Poe started to move slowly, your synchronised moans and groans echoing around the dark room once again. Poe leaned down and began to slowly suck at your exposed breast that had popped out of their bra in your previous tousle. You arched your back and threaded a hand up his locks, pulling him tightly against you as your other hand generously scratched up his back, making him moan hungrily against your tit.

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned.

His movements increased with sudden vigour, picking up the pace to match your beautiful moans. The amazing drag of his cock in your wet channel made you want to float and you feel yourself losing yourself to him. Poe’s hand ended up between the two of you and you knew he was close as his fingers started to rub gently at your already abused clit.

“Come with me Poe, please.” You whispered and he nodded immediately.

“Now.” he breathed and you came with a choked groan as you milked him, pushing him and prolonging his release with each clench of your cunt.

He pumped himself inside you a few more times before letting his legs give way, collapsing ungracefully on top of you. The both of you spent the next few minutes catching your breath, completely spent from your irresponsible activities.

Poe gets up first, pressing a gentle kiss onto your shoulder before pulling himself out of you with a groan. He pulls off the condom and you hear him tossing it aside and gently lowering himself next to you as you admire the mess you made of him.

You gently run your knuckle against his cheekbone and watch his eyes flutter close. You shuffle closer and turn around, tucking yourself into his chest and pulling his arms around you, feeling incredibly clingy after that vigorous session.

“Who knew you had an off button inside you.” Poe spoke up after a while and you swatted at his bicep, causing him to chuckle and cuddle you closer.

You suddenly felt vulnerable in his arms, turning to face him once more.

“Poe?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“D-do you like me?” you ask, hugging your arms around your own naked body.

Silence filled the room and you thought you were done for, that this was all for nothing when suddenly, a loud laugh emitted from Poe, causing you to jump slightly.

“You’re telling me, you slid into my lap and let me fuck you how I wanted to fuck you and you’re now asking if I like you?! Are you dumb?” he cackled through his words and you pouted.

“I don’t like you, stupid. I love you.” Poe said in one final sentence that made you almost stop functioning.

“You- I…” you tried to say but Poe cut you off with a kiss, a kiss so gentle almost like he was afraid to break you.

“I love you too Poe.” You breathed the second his lips gave you the tiniest bit of space.

“I know.” He smiled at you before giving you one last peck. “Can we go back to cuddling now and talk about everything when the power comes back?”

“By talk you mean-”

“Do I need to spell it out, commander? Now hush.” he slyly cuts you off and you smile as his arms wrap around you once again, your heart and mind finally settling in the same place.

Reblogs are appreciated~~~

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uselesssomebody · 9 months

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Oooooo wondering if I request a miguel o'hara x platonic(maybe) shy reader who’s a popular superhero spider person who bonded with venom and has an infant son who’s a mommy boy with her boyfriend Miguel of her dimension. Miguel sees the reader reminded of his dead wife reader of his dimension. Pretty cute her infant son and Mayday Parker having play dates, she’s the godmother of Mayday and Peter is the godfather 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

'𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕜𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜' 𝕕𝕒𝕪 - dad!miguel o'hara x mom!reader

(or astv's spider society x platonic!reader)

complete masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader and peter b. have a 'bring your kid to work' day at the spider society

a/n || i have been frothing at the mouth to write dad!miguel so here

➵ anon i'm actually kneeling at your feet for this request; it's so *chef's kiss* unfortunately, i know 0 things about venom, and i forgot about the 'shy' aspect of reader, but otherwise, i tried to nail this request. if you want a shy reader x miguel specifically, just send me another req, and i will have it done.

➵ lemme talk about the spanish real quick: a lot of it in this one thanks to the lovely @spookyanamurdock. quite a bit of spanglish as well, translations are next to the spanish bits

➵ also miguel (both of him) is the only one to speak any spanish. reader is not coded as being able to speak spanish or necessarily being from a spanish-speaking country, but she can understand what miguel is saying.

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff

it'd been nine months since she'd had a full night's rest.

guess how old her infant was.

she was jolted awake to the sound of wails and cries and she quickly rubs her hands over her face as she sits up. she looks behind her to see her husband roll in his sleep at the sound, and she smiles, getting up more quickly so that she can handle their child before he wakes up.

she steps into the next room, where their son is rocking in his cradle, evidently upset. she pouts a little at the sight of his chubby cheeks pinched into a scowl, and his gummy mouth open and ignorant to how loud he was being.

"what's woken you up, baby?" she mumbles, quiet and rhetoric, as she immediately takes him in her arms, rocking him softly on one side while using her free arm to gently pat for where he was feeling discomfort. noticing none, and recognizing his cry wasn't that of hunger, she lifts him up gently, looking in his adorable, curious eyes.

she notices his cries have simmered, a more satisfied and sleepy expression on his features, and she smiles, "did you just want mama to hold you for a bit?" she muses, as she lovingly tucks his head back into her shoulder, quietly pacing the room with him. in another couple moments, he's out like a light once more, and she chuckles to herself as she lays him back down in his cradle, momentarily forgetting her annoyance at losing sleep as she traces a soft finger over his features, beaming at his adorableness, "goodnight, gabe." she murmurs softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, before she slips back out of the room, and into her bedroom. the clock by her bed reads 3:07, and she sighs, her exhaustion overtaking her once more. she smiles at the sight of her husband, still knocked out in the same position. she lays back down next to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, as she revels in his large stature and radiating heat, falling asleep next to him almost immediately.

she was a little shocked when she'd gotten a call in for work the next morning. well 'work' is a better way of putting it, as you can't exactly put 'multiverse-hopping for the spider society' on a resume.

she'd worked with the gajillion other spiders in nueva york for a little over 3 years before she'd had to take maternity leave for the little baby she was currently heating up a bottle of milk for. on the other side of the kitchen, her husband was allowing gabe to sit on his shoulders and play with his hair as he tried to clean dishes, and she suppresses a laugh at the sight, plucking gabe off his shoulders. "enough of that, baby." she muses, "you'll mess up daddy's hair," she sets him into his high chair, gently sticking the bottle in his mouth, as her husband comes and sits next to her. she gently runs her hand through his hair, straightening it out where gabe messed it up.

"miguel?" she starts, and he nods, his eyes looking up at hers, "i've gotta go in today." he furrows his brow a little, before realizing what she was talking about.

"¿cuándo regresarías?” (when’ll you be back?) he mumbles, still a little sleepy from the hectic morning. she shakes her head.

"no clue yet. think we can get a sitter for him?" she cocks her head to gabe, who was happily enjoying his bottle himself. miguel sighs, rubbing his eyes a little.

"no creo, cariño" (i don't think so, sweetheart.) he looked stressed, and she looked at him sympathetically, so she shakes her head.

"that's okay, hun." she rubs his knuckles a little, "i'll just take him with me." miguel's eyes widen in worry, and she chuckles.

"it's just a consultation, don't worry." she smiles, "we'll not move an inch from the headquarters." his shoulders relax a little, and a smile finally falls over his tired face.

"uhm, claro. si, suena bien, sure." (right. yeah, that sounds good, sure.) he pauses for a moment, "uh, will the big guy be okay with it?" she looks at him confused, before she bursts out in laughter, making gabe jump a little, dropping his bottle. she winces a little, picking it up for him and mumbling a quick 'sorry'

"are you talking about other-miguel?" she teases, and he groans with a smile.

other-miguel was her boss, the person in charge of the spider society. it'd been an... experience when she'd first met him.

originally, her recruitment was overseen by spiderwoman - jessica, her lovely friend who she was now coaching through her own pregnancy. because jessica brought her in, she'd not actually met other-miguel until nearly 2 months in.

the first time she'd seen him had been when jessica was at home - or her home universe - and she'd instead had to discuss her next mission with him. she'd gone up to his office, ready with a quip about how he had the same name as her long-term boyfriend - but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her boyfriend's back in front of her. her eyes widen, and her greeting catches in her throat. other-miguel looks back at her, and he's got a similarly surprised look in his eyes.

"¿cariño?" (sweetheart?) he asks in his familiar, gruff voice. it was tinged in slightly more exhaustion.

"hon - honey?" she stutters out, finally able to clear her throat enough to talk, "what are you doing here?" he blinks in shock, before he sighs deeply, realizing what had happened.

"no - no, no soy…" (i'm not) he inhales, "you're seeing a miguel o'hara?" she blinks.

"honey, what are you-"

"no-" he cuts her off, "i'm not your miguel." her eyes narrow, before it dawns on her.

in the entirety of the spider society, there were countless versions of 'peter parker', a handful of 'miles morales's, and more than a few 'gwen stacy's and plenty of 'm.j.'s. it would be, in fact, more shocking that there wasn't more than one miguel o'hara in the multiverse.

"oh." she mumbles, "oh." a beat passes, "do you - you know someone like me too?"

his face is downcast. it's a touchy subject.

"si. así es." (yeah. that’s right.) there's a silence that passes over them, before his face becomes stern again, and he begins explaining the mission.

it took 3 more missions for other-miguel to open up about the woman she reminded him off, and she, in turn, would point out the differences between him and her boyfriend. they had a strange bond, something that was difficult to properly explain to anyone else, but they felt no obligation to.

she knows miguel found it hard to be around her at first. every time he'd look at her, his face would flash in a pain that she only came to know about later, and one she hoped to never understand. similarly, it made her feel weird to be seeing and hearing her boyfriend, yet having to adamantly remember that it wasn't him. it became better after a while, as it was easier to notice the differences between her miguel and other-miguel.

now, she was good friends with him - at least, as friendly as anyone could be with him.

"yeah, he won't mind," she continues, talking to her boyfriend, "besides, peter brings his little one in constantly. it'll be fine." she smiles, and her husband seems to calm a little.

"perfecto." he rises slowly, pressing a kiss to gabe's forehead, and then her lips, "¿te vere ésta noche?" (i'll see you tonight?) she nods with a small smile.

"yeah, honey." she waves him off as he heads to work, before she picks up gabe, "you ready for some misadventure, baby?" she teases, pressing a kiss to his nose. he coos in response, and she takes it as a yes, pulling out her watch.

after a couple minutes, a multicolored portal opens in her kitchen, and jessica walks in, waddling a little with the large weight in her stomach. she grins wide at the sight of the mother and son, cooing at the adorable child.

"i haven't seen you in ages!" jessica drawls, taking her into a hug, before plucking gabe up, and playing with his little baby hands, "have you grown, gabe? you're so big now!" he giggles in response, as though he's taken the compliment, and jessica laughs, handing him back to his mother.

"how've you been, jess? how's the tummy?" she asks, rocking gabe slowly. jess rubs her stomach, pouting a little.

"they're kickin' and screamin' to get out." they both laugh at the comment, before jessica pulls out a small, baby-sized watch, a visitor pass for baby gabe, "here." she slips it over his small wrist, "don't want you glitching out, do we?" jessica steps back, before looking back at her, "ready?"

she nods, clutching gabe a bit tighter.

"baby's first." jessica jokes, leading her forward. she adjusts gabe on her hip and the watch on my wrist, stepping in. gabe coos in interest at the colors of the portal, and he has to blink a few times when he realizes that the actual h.q. is significantly *less* interesting. he fidgets a little, brows furrowing in confusion, which causes her to soothe him with a hand running along his back.

"it's okay, baby." she whispers in his ear, glancing around at the familiar building and familiar spider-people milling about. a couple of them nod or wave in recognition, and she greets a few, before jessica pulls her along.

"c'mon, miguel and peter b. need us." she nods at jess's statement, tucking gabe's head in her shoulder and following the woman up to miguel's office.

as soon as they walk in, she see miguel and peter, stood on his suspended platform, look back at them, and 4 youngins on the floor look back too. they're a diverse group, teenagers and just older, and of course, she knew hobie and pav. immediately, the two of them come up to greet her, excited to see her after so long.

"you're back?" pav says excitably, and she laughs.

"no - no, not yet, sorry, guys." she clarifies, and gabe's head pops up at the noise. pav and hobie's eyes widen.

"you've go' a kid now?" hobie's accent, strong as ever, shines through. she rolls her eyes playfully.

"why'd you think i left? for fun?" peter's come down to join them at this point, and he engulfs her in a side hug, before taking gabe off her.

"and how is my little godson doing?" he coos, playing with the baby. she smiles at the interaction, before looking around him.

"where's my goddaughter, pete?" she asks curiously, wondering where may's head of vibrant red is. peter cocks his head in miguel's direction, making her look back up to see the infant crawling around on his giant, familiar shoulders. she laughs, and miguel finally comes down to join them. she sees the other two teenagers' faces scrunch in confusion, and it's suddenly evident to her that they're newbies, and they don't yet know that miguel's slow descent is nothing but a fear tactic and, more often than not, he'd use the faster setting to get to the floor in seconds. he comes up to her, a gruff expression on his face, and the teenagers' seem concerned. until, he dons the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. he nods his head in greeting, and she salutes him, and small grin on her face, as may practically slides down from his arm and into her chest, making her catch the baby with an exaggerated stumble and 'oomph!', "aw, you've grown, haven't you, may-be?" she smiles, having given her goddaughter an adjacent nickname to her own child, "what trouble have you been getting into?"

meanwhile, pav and hobie - uncharacteristically - were cooing over gabe in pete's arms. i turn to the teenagers, and jessica introduces me.

"gwen, and miles - visitor." jess clarifies, pointing at both respectively.

"nice to meet you guys." she nods back, looking between them and may, trying to crawl on her shoulders.

after a couple more moments of catch-up, miguel and pete pulled her up to the panel, along with may and gabe, and jessica pulls the other 4 out. miguel begins explaining the reasoning for the call-in.

"so, these 4 are being assigned to an anomaly. the girl's only been here a month - this is her first real mission - and the guy's here to prove himself." she quirks a brow.

"so he's been here less than a month and he's already on a mission?" it's not common - even she'd had to dredge through a month and a half of training sessions and simulations before going on her first mission - and even that was with jessica. miguel shrugs in response to her question, and peter interrupts.

"i vouch for him. he's a - he's a good kid. mentored him myself. we stopped a multiversal collapse together before." he says casually, so casually that she can't help but giggle. it'd been a year since she'd heard about things like 'multiversal collapses', and she still wasn't used to it.

"okay, where do i come in?" she asks, pulling gabe off of a monitor he wanted to play with.

"you can sit right here and just guide them. peter también va a estar aquí, solo, guialos ¿está bien?" (peter's gonna be here too. just... coach them, you know?) miguel explains, and she nods.

"right... sure. yeah, that works." peter smiles, and miguel points to a monitor.

"your station, m'lady." peter jokes, making her laugh. she sits down, gabe on her lap, slipping an earpiece in her ear and beginning to read the data file on the anomaly the 4 were looking to contain. after a couple minutes, she hears the crackle of a girl's voice - gwen - through the ear piece.

"hey! we've just arrived in the universe." she nods at the confirmation.

"perfect. you guys ready?"

the mission was relatively quick to finish, and she had celebrated with peter once hobie's voice had crackled through, saying the anomaly was captured. he stayed behind to monitor it while the three teens headed back, and she sighed in relief, finally picking gabe up from his place crawling on the floor with may.

while her and peter were tensely trying to ensure the kids were safe and everything went to plan, the two infants had been having the time of their life playing with each other. gabe would find it tremendously entertaining whenever may would begin climbing on walls, and he had tried a few times too, only getting as far as a meter up before his mother pulled him off out of her worry. nonetheless, he absolutely was determined to climb onto a monitor, which resulted in a slight hassle when peter lost audio for a moment.

by the time the mission was over and gabe was back in his mother's arms, he was out like a light, exhausted by his long day in the spider society.

after miles, pav and gwen had made it back, peter was sure celebrations would be in order, something that miguel seemed to be staunchly against, and something she had to reluctantly decline.

"sorry, guys, i should get back home. the little guy's already sleepy, and miguel should be back home by now." the sentence confused gwen and miles, as they looked between her and the intimidating boss of the spider society. she smiles at their confusion, but opts to let jessica explain, as she says her goodbyes and heads out. may, distraught at the thought of not being able to play with gabe anymore, makes a daring attempt to escape with him and his mom, only foiled at the last moment because of an attentive miguel. she smiles at the sight, petting her hair and letting may wave one final time at gabe's sleeping form - moving his hand to mimic a wave back - before heading to the portals.

when she tries to hand back gabe's visitor's pass to jessica, it's fruitless, as the other woman insists she keeps it, a certain knowing look in her eyes. she tries to ignore it, smiling in thanks, as the two head back.

correct to her belief, miguel - her miguel - was changing out of his work attire when they arrived and, upon hearing his greeting to her, gabe's eyes shoot open, excited at the thought of seeing his dad after the long day apart. it makes her laugh, and she sets the infant down on the couch to take off his wristband.

"¿qué tal todo?" (how was it?) comes miguel's - maybe perpetually - sleepy voice from behind her as she fiddles with the closing mechanism of the band.

"good. gabe tried climbing on a few walls, met his godsister - if that's a thing - met other-miguel and his godfather. got to meet the kids too." she lists off quickly, taking off the band and placing it to the side, not realizing that miguel is right behind her now.

he wraps his large arms around her, warmth encircling her body as she squeak in slight shock, making gabe laugh.

"and how was it for you, mi amor?" (my love) he asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek, making her smile.

"well, we saved the day. so it was very good." miguel nods, not letting her go.

"muy bien, muy bien," (good, good.) he whispers, seemingly now less interested in the answer to his question and more interested in the fact that he could hold her after his grueling day.

as soon as the hug lasts a little too long, though, they hear an indignant whine of disapproval, making them both laugh after a moment of shock. miguel detaches from her, and she reaches down to sit with gabe, before pulling him into her lap. his face immediately breaks into a smile, and miguel settles next to them.

"¿qué pasa, bebé? (what is this, baby?) you won't let me hug your mom anymore?" he says in playful upset. gabe frowns at his words, settling farther in his mom's arms.

"i think he's a little jealous." she teases, running her hands through gabe's thin head of hair.

"¡increible! (unbelievable!) i knew her first, amigo." the joking annoyance makes her laugh, as she places a big kiss to gabe's cheek and then to miguel.

"boys, boys. there's enough love for me to share." as if hearing her, gabe whines in annoyance again, making her and miguel look at each other with wide eyes.

"o - okay, it's all for you, gabe." she reassures, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. she looks up at miguel. "please don't start whining, now." she teases. he laughs quietly.

"no te prometo nada." (no promises.)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #dad!miguel o'hara #mom!reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #'bring your kid to work' day #oscar isaac

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blue-sadie · 6 months

Text

Wavering

Imagine:

Dating oscar isaac and him taking you to one of his premieres but you get nervous infront of big crowds even more so as you get a thousand questions thrown your way and he sees you hand trembling so he grabs it and whispers in your ear.

"Your doing great mi amor your doing so well, I saw an exit around the corner we can go home if you need, we can go home order from your favorite restaurant and binge watch our favorites"

#celebrity x reader fluff #celebrity x reader #celebrity #celebrities #celebritys fluff #celebrities fluff #actor #actor fluff #actor x reader #actor x reader fluff #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fluff #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x reader fluff #celebrity imagine #celebrity fluff imagine #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac fluff imagine

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fhrlclln · 10 months

Note

Could you write Miguel hates everyone but you please.

miguel o’hara x spider!gn! reader

ANONNN YESSS, the thought made my toes curl how he’d automatically go soft on you at any moment LOLLL, like his annoyance would fizzle out just one word or glance from you (basically i want him obsessed with me 🤪).

｡･:*˚:✧｡

if you knew better, you know well not to get on miguel’s nerves.

he’s a busy man, stressed and fighting his way through his mission of keeping the multiverse in-tact. lyla once said that he wasn’t all like this before, just that everything had weighed on him the moment he discovered what keeps every spider-person’s dimension stable, learning from his own personal mistake. basically, you think the spider-society’s leader is kind of… unstable? kinda, if mentally but overall, you think he just hates everyone.

it was common to see him snapping at people, mostly the ones who get on his nerves frequently. but most of the time, he’s strict and scarily assertive when it comes to normal matters that need his guidance. everyone in the spider-society don’t really care if they pissed their leader off in some way but they were aware not to push his buttons. they just kinda wished he was more fun since they deemed him as the only spiderman who isn’t ‘funny.’ hell, everyone wanted to see if he’d throw that attitude away for once.

but maybe he did.

it was subtle, subtle you couldn’t even make it out.

“a new suit you’re building?” miguel’s shoulder’s tensed at the sudden boom of your voice, yet instantly he relaxes as you hop of the ceiling to stand by his side while he works on his own suit. “hope i’m not intruding.” you quickly follow up, realizing your mistake of not knocking or something.

“in the progress, yes.” miguel says, without much sarcasm or annoyance. you relax as well as miguel continued on working, not minding you were here it seems. he was quiet as you knew, you knew from observation that he liked working alone most of the time.

“that’s cool! how far are you enhancing from this suit?” you asked, utterly excited now as you gesture to his original suit. miguel seems amused, as you expected him to shut you off or ask why you were here but he merely chuckles, liking your curiosity.

“way far, trying to improve it’s durability and other things here and there, sensors, these web wings...” he gestures to the material underneath the armpits of the suit. a fine light byte material as you noticed. “and more.” he looks down to the other parts of the suit, proud.

you hummed, taking the to admire his craftsmanship. it certainly was a big change to his suit now as you can see, the color theme was changed as well, incorporating white in it but still had that usual tone. your eyes wandered, taking every little detail until one had your eyes widening.

“are those… boot jets?” you bend down to take a better look, as the suit was situated by wires, hanging a top.

“yes. for boosting flight speed mainly.” he says, grabbing one of the soles as he shows it to you. your eyes sparkled as you touched it, amazed how a booster could fit that small.

“amazing, miguel! wished my suit was capable of that.” you smiled as miguel shrugs at it, though a small smile is graced on his lips from your compliment. “what else are you innovating?”

miguel gestures to the wrist of the suit’s gloves as he picks something off the table from the side to show it to you. it was small arachnid shaped objects he presented as he demonstrates it by flinging it off way up as he shoots it with his laser webs causing a small explosion to occur, making you jump.

“explosives—“

miguel lets you take one of small explosives from his hand with astonishment as he softly explains along what they are. “prototype explosives. yeah, they’re something i’ve been—“

“what are we talking about today?! i just heard an explosion, i thought we were keeping it baby-proof here, miguel!” peter’s cheery voice suddenly took over as miguel let out a tiny exasperated sigh at the sudden intrusion. you waved in greeting as the father-daughter duo made their way towards the two of you. mayday happily napping in peter’s baby sling.

“there is no such thing of baby-proofing a lab, peter.” he grunts, resuming his antics as peter cooly dismisses his unwelcoming attitude. his face remains passive yet his tone was off, you noticed. “what do you want?”

“important matters. sorry for intruding whatever you two are doing, was it serious?” peter takes a knowing glance at you as you chuckled.

miguel rolls his eyes. “it was not—“

“it’s no big deal, peter. was just stopping by for miguel.” you smiled at him, looking back at miguel as you sensed some serious matter was going to be discussed as you excused yourself now. “i’ll be heading back now. miguel, if you have the time i’d love to hear more of the suit.”

miguel nods gently, the sudden look of annoyance dying down from his face a bit as you waved goodbye to peter, not forgetting to whispering a bye-bye to mayday as well. the two men stood in silence as peter seemed to catch something on as miguel went back to his desk, resuming his work.

“so, you really don’t hate everyone, huh?” peter starts, amused. very amused at the sudden subtle change. amused as well that he just won the bet that their leader didn’t hate everyone in fact.

“what does that have to mean?” miguel raises a brow at the assumption.

“oh, i don’t know… but, well for one, you aren’t that snappy at them than to me and maybe so on…” peter says mischievously, looking back to where you exited, chuckling as he smirks as miguel catches on with that implication and the tease. the tip of his ears heating up that as he turns his back at him.

“stop assuming things, parker.” he says defensively, peter raises his hands in defense as well, yet still not letting it go for a moment before they finally talk about the more serious matters. though, his mind yet ponders at what truth was said. it wasn’t that true that he hates everyone… everyone just annoys him but, yeah…

maybe he does like you, it seems.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

i want him fr

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fluff #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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spctrsgf · 9 months

Text

mi luz

based off of this comment i wrote on tiktok: “he looks like he could use a hug and a shoulder to cry on.”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: nonspidey!reader, language, hurt to comfort fic (miguel needs a break. like a sabbatical or something)

a/n: ngl, i'm not too happy with how this turned out, probably because i wrote it all on a plane and it's not beta read, but i need more soft miguel fics in my life!!!

He’s tired.

He’s tired and he’s missing you. The boring, monotonous walls of his office harshly remind him of his place, the jubilant orange glow of his monitors tell him of just how much more work he’s got left before he can finally retire to your world.

Lyla, lounging atop one of his screens, watches him and his glossed over eyes, knowing exactly what the lazy flick of his fingers meant. She sighs, glitching over to bring one of his screens forward. “Miguel!” She yells, scaring the poor man out of his thoughts and momentarily extending his claws. “Lyla, what the fu- what the hell?” He growls, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No kids are here, you don’t have to keep it PG.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, you got work to do, and if you don’t finish it soon, it'll be too late to get in some quality time with this lovely human,” she shoves the digitized photo of you up and into his face. “Before your next mission.”

He sighs, knowing she was right.

“Daydreaming about it isn’t gonna get you there any quicker,” she flickers to be right in front of his face, slapping a hand onto his nose as if she could actually touch him. “GET YOUR SHIT DONE.”

“Fine, fine! Get out of my face.” He grumbles the second sentence, swatting her away and strolling back up to his screens. His eyes catch on your photo, and he reaches to enlarge it in front of him, but—

“No,” Lyla dissipates the photo before he can even get to it, face twisted in disappointment. “No. Not until you finish working.”

“Hey! Who’s the boss here?”

“Me. Now work.” Lyla glitches out of view with a triumphant huff.

He huffs dramatically, pouting as he pulls himself together. He lets his emotions drop from his face and slides into his stoic mask, resuming the work on his screen. It’s hypnotizing as soon as he gets into it; Lyla must’ve done something to keep him focused, he supposes. She always does have a trick up her sleeve.

In what feels like no time at all, he’s done with his work. With a final, defiant tap to close down his screens, he spins on his heel, ready to leave and go home. Ready to hop in through your window— as much as you hate when he does that— and rest his head atop yours, caging you into where you’re surely stirring something on the stove.

But as he turns, he’s face to face with none other than Hobart Brown. A look to the left reveals his partners in crime; and Miguel knows he’s in for a ride. At least a ten minute detour, as it always is with the four of them.

“What?” His hands come to rest on his hips naturally, trying to become bigger to them as if it would make the next words out of their mouth more blunt and less angering. “We have a slight problem—” Gwen starts, before Pav butts in.

“It's not slight. It’s a pretty big deal!”

“Mate,” Hobie huffs. “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m trying my best!”

"Yeah, and that's going great-"

“Okay, stop it, all of you,” Miguel interrupts before they can go down the rabbit hole, trying to keep his already strung thin patience steady. “What’s going on?”

“There’s another fight going on.” Hobie gives the answer blunt, to Miguel’s satisfaction.

“Cafeteria?”

“Main hall. Sector D.”

The huff that erupts from his lips draws a colorful picture of his current emotions as he hops off of his elevated platform. “I’ll fix it.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Miles brings himself to stand in front of the man. “We’re not gonna hurt anyone, right?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He brushes past the kid, dismissing him with a shake of the head.

“Miguel. Don’t take your anger out on them–” Gwen tries, but all it gets is his recoil and daunting stalk towards her.

“I will do whatever the–” the swear word is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. “I will do whatever is needed, but violence is not my first course of action.”

“Please be nice to everyone,” Pav says, peeking over Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s been a long week for all of us too.”

Miguel sighs and brushes past them, saying nothing. He brushes off their words in silent agreement. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone either.

By the time he reaches where he'd been informed the fight was, there was a mosh pit encircling the brawl, a mass of blue and red and spidermen. He approaches from behind, the tide parting for him as each person registers his presence.

When he meets the pearl in the oyster, the hotheaded spiderman hasn’t noticed him quite yet. He’s got the other spidey— one of the many spiderwomen— beneath him, gnarly fist raised to land another punch. Miguel sighs, grabs the back of the man’s elbow, and dragssss him off.

“Everyone get away now.” His tone squeezes the air out of the room and leaves no room for discussion, not that anyone would dare to object. The spidermen flee the scene before he can even finish his sentence, and by the time he’s turned back to the perpetrators of it all, they’re gone too.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, murmuring a low cálmate under his breath as he moves to regain his bearings. “Lyla,” he waves the said woman near. “Find those spidermen and remind me to get to them when I come back.” She sputters to focus in front of him, dipping her head in an obliged nod before sputtering off again to wherever she found herself needed.

Miguel shakes and unclenches the fist he’s made with his free hand and stalks back to his office, rubbing the palm of his hand where his claws had taken purchase amidst anger.

Sometimes, he regrets putting himself in charge of all of this… shit.

But… he’s the only one who can do it. No one had the vigor, the dedication, the understanding of why and what had to be done to keep the multiverses in line and make sure what happened to him never happened again.

It’s tiring. It takes his nights and his days and chips at his brain until he’s sure there’s nothing left in the expanse of his head. For someone who appears naturally angry, he’s quite good at keeping all the real anger in.

The downside of this: he bottles it all up. But the bottle isn’t big enough, doesn’t last forever, cracks at the seams, and then shatters in a explosion of tears. It enjoys crumpling him into the floor, loves the way his hands shiver in the cold breeze, shakes him to the core and, for all his confidence, makes him doubt.

Lyla’s only seen him like this once, when he couldn’t get away and instead had to sequester himself into his office, not quite getting to hardwiring her nosy personnel to do something else.

No, he doesn’t rely on her, as he normally would with other problems. He doesn’t trust her, he doesn’t even trust himself with post breakdown Miguel, no.

He goes to you.

You. The lovely, kind person he’s had the great privilege of calling his. His love, his support, his everything, or better yet; mi luz. My light. The light at the end of the tunnel, at the end of the world, when he feels like the walls are caving in and there’s really nowhere else to go and nothing more to lose.

You calm him, like you always do. Effortlessly caring, eternally so. Never afraid to give, to let him take and take until he’s stuffed whole. You know little things about him, take the time to learn them. Like where to get his favorite empanadas— much better than the ones in the spidey cafeteria— and that he loves when you press your fingers into his shoulder blades. He loves your massages.

He loves you.

Tapping insistently at the shitty gadget on his wrist, he mindlessly pulls up the coordinates for your dimension. Second nature. He’s walked himself into some obscure corner of the building, but he isn’t processing such mundane things at the moment. He can feel himself slipping, the mask fracturing. He can’t be left alone right now.

You.

The portal is up now, flashing and glitching in an assortment of colors, beckoning him in with its delectable light, like a halo. Miguel wastes no time giving in, diving into the portal and tucking himself tight like a torpedo.

Multiverses zoom by as he glides through hexagons and hexagons, thousands of people in each. Worlds that he keeps steady, safe, perfect. Normally, he’d stop to smell the flowers, observe and appreciate the sereneness of every special home in front of him. Pride himself in the fact that there was a special home for someone to come home to.

But not this time. No, this time he keeps his eyes screwed shut, he wouldn’t, couldn’t get distracted by the novelty. The bottle is cracking now, cracking into long and sharp spikes aching to slice across his chest. He’s so close, all he could get himself to do was focus on his breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out—

The abrupt warning of your multiverse approaching pinches his wrist, reminding him that this whole mess was very much real. He stumbles into your living room with a not so quiet thud, startling you. You drop the spoon you were stirring something with— smells like some sort of sauce, yum— and whip your head towards him.

He’s got his arms wrapped around you before you can even process that it's him, burying himself in your neck and inhaling the calm scent of you, a mix of your perfume and your detergent, so very you.

“Miguel.” You sigh into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist as the initial shock of his intrusion wears off.

He slumps into you, only trusting himself to let out a low grumble of your name.

“What’s going— oh,” your brain puts two and two together. “Oh, Miguel, shh. It’s okay, I got you.”

And he breaks. Because he knows you mean it. He knows you have him. You always do.

The tears are bubbling over the rims of his eyes and splashing down his cheeks, his hands are twisted up in your loose shirt. He’s sure his claws have made an entrance too. One of your hands reaches to turn off the stove, the other rubbing incandescent patterns into his back.

You were always so careful. Never leave the stove on, Miggy. Don’t wanna burn the food. He loves that about you.

“Hey,” your voice wisps in through the fog of his mental breakdown, of the end of the world. “Hey. It’s me. Just me. Your absolute favorite person on this planet.”

“Multiverse.” He manages through sob induced hiccups.

“Multiverse,” You smile, breathing out a soft laugh as you toil him in closer. “Breathe, my love. I have you. Nobody is here but me, and I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

He nods, lets himself weigh more onto you.

“That’s it, I got you,” you coax. “Get it out of your system.”

He gives all the tears he has to give. He’s sandwiching you between the counter and his stature, but you don’t seem to mind. Your spilling words, mindlessly, talking until he’s done and ready to attach himself to them, the soft baritone of your voice.

And it takes time, but he gets there. He’s in the tunnel, the walls are caving in, he’s believing he's given all he has to give, but you’re there, and you’re telling him no, no you have not. You don’t get to lose, because you have SO much more life to live.

His light.

The tunnel lets up, opens up the walls, lets him bathe in you, in the way your arms are still hooked tight around his waist and you’re going on about how there was a new episode of your favorite show that he had to watch.

And of course he would watch it.

He’d do anything for you, anything you asked whenever you wanted. And he knows, in turn, that there wasn’t a damn thing in this god forsaken reality that would stop you from doing the same for him.

You tell him as much. To his face, into his hair, with the dance of your fingers on his back, in the way you guide him to the couch, when you place down some food and a cup of water— you just cried out your backup supply— and again when you place yourself down next to him.

“I’m so beyond lucky to have you.” He murmurs to you, some fifteen minutes into the episode of your show, something about this dude with a metal helmet and a green baby? He can’t recall the name.

You turn, a smile gracing your features. “You deserve me. You deserve everything the multiverse has to offer and more. Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have one less person bothering you.”

“Ah, yes,” you laugh, swatting his cheek. “Like you’re such a nuisance.”

He laughs, actually laughs. It’s nice.

You tilt your head onto the girth of his shoulder, snuggling in tight as your attention is again sucked into the screen.

He smiles dazedly at you, finally feeling at peace.

Mi luz. My light.

is anyone else still obsessed with him or is that just me

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara fluff #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters #oscar issac x you #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac imagine #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spider verse

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sweetly-yours-and-mine · 1 year

Note

“you have a daughter?” with single dad! marc pls🥺🥺

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!Reader

Word Count: 2k (we're off to a strong start lol)

A/N: Just opened up my askbox for some requests!

Warnings: fluffy, a little angsty, marc is a bit of a nervous mess bless him

Marc, she’s come to find out, was the guy to take it slow.

He took his time with her, bought her flowers and pretty necklaces with jewelled pendants that he gave her when he took her out to dinner.

She’s never been charmed the way Marc has managed to charm her.

He walks her to her door after taking her out, kisses her cheek and then asks if she’d like it if he kissed her on her mouth.

The stories her grandmother told her of the dashing, charming men that wooed her off her feet when she was young finally start to ring true to her ears.

She feels that maybe, after years of looking, she’s managed to find a real treasure worth holding on to.

She feels that maybe all those ruined dates and talking phases and endless swipes on the dating apps were worth it, if it meant that one day Marc would stumble into her life like he always belonged there. She’d do it all over again, ten times over, to get to Marc.

Marc, she’s come to find out, is worth close to anything she’s able to give, and he always asks so little from her in return for all he does, as if she was worth all that he gives her and more.

He’s flurrying about his kitchen now, having banished her to the living room with a glass of wine and a quasi-demand to make herself at home, despite her insistence on helping. Dinner would be ready in just a couple of minutes, he said. He’d already set the table.

Marc, she’s come to find out, was the guy who liked having things done his way. Found it easier to take on the load himself than to let others help.

It’s the first time he’s invited her over to his place. The first time that he asked her to have a date night in, with soothing music and soft lights, just the two of them together.

Marc, she’s come to find out, was an utter, sappy romantic at heart.

She wonders if tonight will be the night he’ll take her to his bed, she wonders what the brown of his eyes will look like shrouded in desire and lust.

Her cheek is still tingling from where he’d kissed her, the small of her back warm from the heat of his palm. His cologne lingers in the air. There’s an anticipatory ache in her thighs and she tries to distract herself from it.

Her eyes are wandering, not looking for anything specific except for him, but because she’s scared that would be too weird, she looks out the window. She’s soaking in the view of the London skyline, dingy and dark from the near consistent rain they’ve had all week.

In Marc’s place, she barely feels a shred of the cold seep into her bones. There are only warm, yellow lights on, nothing too direct. She might as well be looking at a hyperrealistic painting.

She goes to set her glass down when her eyes fall on the picture frames, hung up beside the window. The wood is stained a deep brown that reminds her of Marc’s eyes, as all brown things usually do.

She hadn’t meant to pry, but now her curiosity has been stoked to life. The oven timer goes on and off, there’s a waft of something savoury as he opens and shuts the door.

The girl is too similar to Marc to be able to pass it off as a niece or a coincidence. The same head of dark curls, matching noses and bushy, unkempt eyebrows. She’s sure this is what Marc would have looked like, when he was a child, had he been a girl.

There’s a picture of her as an infant, still in the hospital and in a younger Marc’s arms, dark circles under his eyes and a nervous smile on his face. It’s the unmistakable traces of new fatherhood, she feels as if she’s seen thousands of pictures just like it, the same words, in different handwritings.

First day of school, mile-wide grin, heavy, sombre eyes from her father that were jarring against his smile. The girl’s pulled tight into his frame, Marc seems to be holding on to her as if she were a shadow.

Eyes flitting up and down, she takes in the rest of them. Days at the beach and nights at home. Milestones stacked on top of each other. Dance recitals, a small bouquet of roses clutched in her hands, held proudly in Marc’s arms.

They even grinned the same way.

Marc’s daughter was well-loved.

Happiness like that could never be faked.

She drifts back towards the kitchen. Marc’s curls, normally neat and tamed back are loose and carefree now.

He tugs on them when he’s nervous. Gives them two or three harsh pulls before drifting down to rub at the skin of his neck, exhales a nervous breath.

She’s underestimated the effect his presence can have on her. There are drawings on the fridge, drawings she hadn’t noticed, not until now.

She feels as if her lack of attention should be justified. Marc is pretty. Pretty in a way that makes her breath hitch, her head somersault on itself. She’s always a little tongue-tied during the first few minutes of their dates.

She knows now that it wasn’t just because of his little belly that tucked out comfortably when he sat down, or the crooked angles of his nose. Tenderness and patience radiates out from inside him, the kind people usually only get when raising children with love.

The thud of his knife against the cutting board, slicing through lettuce and cucumbers is comforting. Though she’d made him promise not to go all out, not to bother himself too much for the dinner, Marc has done exactly that.

“Hungry?”

“Hm?” There’s a dog in one of the drawings, a cat in the other.

“Just gotta finish the salad.”

She knows that it’ll be fruitless to offer to take anything to the table. She wants to ask him if he’d like some wine and is instead surprised by the words that flow out of her mouth. “You have a daughter?”

He freezes. A cucumber slides off his knife. It may have well been a scene out of a sitcom. She would have laughed, had it not been for the hold Marc already had on her heart.

She keeps her gaze steady on him, watches intently as he sets down his knife and looks at her.

There’s nothing she can tell from the expressions in his eyes, the hardened tilt of his mouth. She’s come to accept that it will take months before she’ll feel confident in reading the man in front of her, one who spoke so much with his body.

If she gets to take months to learn his language.

It’s an unpleasant little tumour of a thought. She swallows to apologise, to grab at whatever the string was that has managed to tie her tightly to Marc and make sure it stays there.

His throat bobs up and down. Marc speaks before she gets the chance to, “Yeah, I have a daughter.”

“What’s…” she wonders if it’s appropriate to ask, and the question dies on her lips.

“Maya. She’s seven now.”

Maya. She rolls the word around her head like a marble, tries to connect it to the photos and drawings hung up around the place. “She looks just like you.”

He laughs, an awkward, fumbling thing. It’s like a flat ball. “We get that a lot.”

“Well, it’s true,” she smiles and tentatively reaches for his hand. It’s a little rough, a little wet from the freshly-washed vegetables; she wonders if he would like it if she bought him some cream, something with glycerin. “And you’re both very beautiful.”

He pauses, emotions fighting on his face until he settles for steering the topic away from him, “You really don’t mind?”

“Why would I?”

He shrugs, casts his eyes away from her. The pressure of his hand in hers fades ever so slightly and she stumbles forward to make sure it stays.

“I don’t mind,” she swallows, rounds over the counter so she comes to stand beside him and looks up at him. “I really don’t. And I’d love to meet her, whenever you think it’s time.”

There’s a familiar expression in his eyes, one that she’s able to figure just from the sheer amount of times he’s looked at her with it on.

“I don’t lie about these things, Marc.” She leans up and kisses his cheek, squeezes his hand at the same time. “And I understand why you didn’t tell me sooner.”

He pauses, mouth hardened into a firm little line, “You like kids?”

She nods. There’s the footprint of her lips on his cheek, a faint brush of rusty pink that plants a little seed of possession inside of her.

“Good.” His voice is gruff, serious like a boulder of sandstone.

“Sorry for springing it on you like that, I saw the photos and-”

He shakes his head, his free hand comes to rest on her waist. Water seeps into her clothes and onto her skin and she revels in the feeling of it, a physical trace of his touch on her.

It amazes her how quickly he can quiet the static inside her mind. “I meant to tell you tonight.” He sighs, his breath rolling over her face, a stitch forming on his forehead. “Forgot about the pictures.”

She presses away the stitch, smiles and delights when he smiles back, retracted and tight, the corners of his eyes wrinkling like well-loved and sunkissed linen.

His phone starts to ring, turns their soft bubble into shattered ice. The grimace returns to his face, “Sorry.”

The cadence of his voice is soft, soft in a way that’s never been directed at her, when he answers the call and goes into his room, “Hey baby…” It sounds like honey, syrupy and nutritious, she feels if she listens hard enough she can hear the gentle hum of bumblebees underneath. “I miss you too.”

She’s finishing the salad when he returns, cutting the rest of the vegetables the way he’d started and hoping that she’d done a good enough job.

His gaze falls back to her hands, “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for,” she slides everything off the cutting board and into the bowl, sets everything aside and comes close to him. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah,” his fingers are tentative as they reach for her again. Her hands come on top of his and press down. A never ending cycle of reassurance. “She’s at my cousin’s. Told her to call before she goes to bed.”

The thought that he has the place to himself tonight makes her stomach flip-flop on itself.

She dares to cup his face between her hands. She’s never done it before and finds the feel of his clean-shaven skin addicting, “You’re a good father.” He stiffens in her arms but doesn’t move out of them. The picture of young Marc in the hospital with his daughter rises again in her mind, “Thank you for making me dinner.”

He frowns, eyebrows furrowing together like two fuzzy caterpillars, “You haven’t fuckin’ eaten it yet.”

It makes her laugh, and she lets him go, kisses him on his pouty mouth. The way he moves is like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon.

He’s all business now, rushing about the kitchen to finish the food. Her eyes fall back to the drawings, flit over to the curly head of his hair, “Do you want some wine, Marc?”

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond to, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here, requests here.

#maria's requests #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x female!reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector angst #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #marc spector x f!reader #marc spector imagine #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight imagine #moon knight fic #oscar isaac

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tom-whore-dleston · 4 months

Note

for the event how about snooze with steven grant <3333 they just fit so perfectly together !!

Snooze

Pairing: Steven Grant x f. reader

Word Count: 1.5k

This fic contains: fluff, neighbors to lovers, insomnia, meet cute scenario, confessions, kissing, corny play on lyrics of Snooze

Summary: You are the main constant that helps combat Steven’s insomnia. This night, things are a little bit different.

Notes: omg Sil you are so right about how Snooze is Steven-coded!! Thank you bb for the request and I hope you enjoy 🥰🫶🏽 Thank you to @potatothots for beta reading and sharing your insight 🩷

Spotify Wrapped 2023 challenge | send a request here

Steven glared at the blue squares of his Rubik's Cube. It had been the third time he solved the three dimensional puzzle since the moon illuminated the night sky. The toy tumbled into his lap as Steven’s groggy eyes flickered towards the shimmering sphere that tauntingly gazed back at him.

The classical record that was meant to aid his sleep came to an end. Steven lost track of how many times he played that record. When his insomnia began many moons ago, the record did wonders for his sleep. Now, it basically is a broken record because of how often he played it at night.

Yet, there was one constant that always helped him fall asleep. And that was you.

You were new to the apartment complex and moved in right next to Steven. The way you both met was one for the books. Your flat mate was running late for work due to lack of sleep from the night before. He rushed out the door, struggling into his coat. Without realizing, his shoelaces dragged carelessly across the floor. Steven, as clumsy as he was, crashed into you carrying a box of clothes, and you both fell to the floor.

The British man’s eyes widened. “Oh my- I am terribly sorry! Are you alright?” His eyes widened even more after one glance upon your beauty.

You sat up chuckling, unaware of his gawking. “No need for apologies. I am perfectly fine.” Then, you noticed the items scattered on the floor. “Although, I’m not too sure about the pile of clothes.” The man mirrored your movements as you crawled towards an article of clothing.

“Allow me to help you ma’am,” Steven began tossing shirts and sweaters into the box. As you reached for your favorite scarf, a strong hand slightly brushed against yours. You stared into each other's eyes, smiling softly. You could have sworn you saw a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Oh heavens, I am late for work!” He checked the time on his watch and began to panic. “I missed my bus, too!”

“Perhaps I can take you to work?” You helped him to his feet, and your cheeks grew hot as he began to tower over you.

“Oh no, I-“

“It’s okay. I want to.” You paused. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Steven unclenched his jaw and let out a quick laugh. “Thank you ma’am! I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.”

“It’s my pleasure…” your voice dropped upon realizing you didn’t know the name of the British man before you.

“Steven. Steven Grant.”

It was a typical late Saturday night when you arrived at your apartment complex. Your watch peeked through your cuffed long sleeve, catching a glimpse of the time.

3:00. That was a record time for the latest you came home from a shift at the local bar. Your body, especially your legs, yearned to crash into the coziness of your bed and sleep until the sun was at its peak in the sky. As you approached the door to your apartment, you stopped in your tracks after meeting your neighbor’s hazy eyes.

“Steven?”

The gentleman in question half smiled. “Hello, darling.”

“Rough night?” You interrogated knowingly. Steven nodded with closed eyes.

You fumbled your key into the lock for a moment before opening the door and stepping to the side. “C’mon in. I’ll make us some tea.”

Steven walked into your apartment and headed towards your couch, as he had done many nights before. He wrapped himself in the blanket you knitted yourself as you fixed a pot of tea. The blanket smelled like you, which always brought him a sense of comfort. A kind of comfort he couldn’t find in his own home. In fact, Steven couldn’t remember the last time he felt any sense of security before meeting you.

“You really fancy that blanket, huh?” You giggled, admiring how adorable he looked being swaddled in your own creation. The day you moved in, you decided to knit a blanket to combat your boredom. Once it was finished, you didn’t dare touch it as you were too afraid it would get ruined. The first night you welcomed Steven into your apartment, he was immediately fascinated with the blanket that he cozied onto your couch bundled in the blanket before falling into the best sleep he had in a while.

“I do, indeed. It helped me sleep when I had no other way of falling asleep.” Steven peered down at the wooly fabric, tracing over the patterns as if his next words were hidden between the stitches.

“Well, I’m happy to have helped you in a subliminal way.” The rest of your surroundings blurred as Steven became the focus of your gaze. Your heart skipped a beat as the dim light in your living room accented his structured face and wavy dark locks. Even with the blanket draped over his frame, his plain white t-shirt did little to hide his muscular arms and broad shoulders.

The abrupt screech of the kettle caused you to jolt and you quickly turned off the stove to avoid the sound reaching your other sleeping neighbors. After steeping chamomile bags in two separate cups, you joined Steven on the couch, leaving a respectful distance between the two of you. You handed him a mug and he gingerly peeled it from your grip. Your teeth gritted together as his soft fingers brushed against yours. Steven frowned, noticing your shift in demeanor.

“You cold, darling?” He shimmied out of the blanket, letting it fall to his waist.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal-” Suddenly, Steven scooted next to you before throwing the blanket over both of your laps with one hand. It was the smoothest thing you had ever witnessed, you forgot how to breathe in that moment.

“There we are. It wouldn’t be right of me to hog all of your blanket.” You couldn't help but laugh. Without further thought, you and Steven simultaneously sipped your cups of tea, the hot beverage instantly calming your mind and muscles. Steven hummed happily as the tea warmed his body. Yet, he was still wide awake.

The grandfather clock that stood strong in your living room ticked loudly to fill the silence of the room. It glared dauntingly into your and Steven’s souls as you drank your tea while avoiding each other’s gazes. The pendulum swung from side to side as if waiting for one of you to make a move. As Steven drank the last drop of tea, he was left with no other choice but to break the silence.

“You know something, love?” You suddenly became more interested in Steven as you set the mug on your coffee table. “Ever since I met you, things have changed.”

“I hope it’s a good kind of change.”

Steven peered down, smiling softly. “Yeah, it was. For starters, you have really helped me combat this insomnia. I couldn’t tell you about the last time I had a good night’s sleep.” Your lips curled into a dopey grin, and your skin grew hot. Yet neither the tea nor the blanket contributed to the warm feeling inside you.

“Then, there is your kindness. No one has been as nice as you have been to me so it feels reassuring to know there’s still good people out there. You are also extremely bold. To move all the way from across the pond is…It’s brave. You’ve done all the things I’m scared to do.” He rambled on and on but one thing reeled in your attention. “To tell you the truth, I’m quite smitten with you, love.”

“Steven…” You were at a loss for words. Your heart skipped a beat after learning he felt the same way about you.

“Forgive me if I am too forward, but-”

“No, not at all. In fact, I feel the same way towards you.” Your hands met in the middle of the blanket, bringing you back to the moment your hands first touched outside your doors. This time, the spark between you two was much stronger.

“Can I kiss you, love?”

“I thought you would never ask.”

Steven laughed before cupping your face with his large hands and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet yet full of passion. It reminded you of a flame so bright you couldn’t help but reach out and touch it because you knew it wouldn’t hurt or scar you. Your lips molded together like a sculptor forming the greatest piece that’ll be admired for centuries to come. Time froze as your lips danced in unison and space ceased to exist around you and between you.

Losing sleep was the last thing on Steven’s mind. For how could he lose when he was with you? Sleep will eventually find its way back to him. He couldn’t snooze and miss the moment of you and him in each other’s embrace.

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#SPOTIFY WRAPPED 2023 🎵#STEVEN GRANT #MOON KNIGHT #MR KNIGHT #OSCAR ISAAC #STEVEN GRANT X READER #STEVEN GRANT X YOU #STEVEN GRANT FANFICTION #STEVEN GRANT FIC #STEVEN GRANT IMAGINE #STEVEN GRANT FLUFF #fluff #reader insert #no y/n #psychedelic-ink #bb sil 💕#request fulfilled ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ

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