#and maybe oscar isaac's face

[loganlermanstanaccount]

PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)

Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3

Touch

Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)

warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best. 

wc: 1.4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on. 

He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.

"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?" 

He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired." 

"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."

He waves you off with a flick of the wrist.   "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."

"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll. 

You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily? 

It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads. 

His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake." 

You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it. 

"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."

You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek. 

"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips. 

You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up. 

"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.

He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away. 

"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."

"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him. 

"No. Touching."

Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting. 

He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest,  you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact. 

Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss. 

"Mierda. Baby, please-"

"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed." 

"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?" 

"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven. 

You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip. 

"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"

When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds. 

With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them. 

"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"

He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so… 

"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath. 

Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him. 

"Fuck off, Miguel."

"Baby, I'm sor-" 

"Fuck. Off."

Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know. 

_

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[eyelessfaces]

he'll be gone in the morning

llewyn davis x reader

summary: you wish he would stay. he never does.

alternatively, two times llewyn is gone when you wake up, one time he's not yet.

warnings: there's honestly more smut than plot lol this was an excuse to write llewyn smut; unprotected piv sex (this man never learns), tipsy sex where both parts consent and are aware of what's happening, creampie, oral f receiving, praise kink, both parts are desperate, plot is based on angst, fear of abandonment i guess?, self doubt from both parts, a bit of self sabotaging from llewyn because is it really an oscar isaac character if he's not self destructive

tags: friends to ??lovers I guess, f!reader, unspoken feelings, reader has hair that's long enough to brush away from her face, fluff, yearning

word count: 2.8k

I haven't been sane about llewyn for the past few days. again. it usually takes me weeks to write smut because it makes me go insane but I wrote this in like eight hours so...... yeah. not sane about this man at all.

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog @eyelessupdates

It’s the same as always; he slept there last night, on your worn out couch, too old for him not to get a sore back after a whole night on it. You remember looking back at him as he tucked a pillow behind his head, a soft smile over his lips when he looked over at you before you turned the light off and reluctantly disappeared through the hallway to go to your room, by yourself.

He’s gone now, his own blanket you had gifted him on his most recent birthday messily folded and put back where it usually rests. If it wasn’t for the unfinished cup of coffee and the ashtray gathering a few cigarette butts sitting over your coffee table, it would be like he was never there in the first place.

He almost always disappears before you can join him and tell him good morning, always escapes before you get the opportunity to ask him to stay for one more night, to get him to be sure he has a place to stay at the end of the day.

He never writes notes anymore the way he used to the first few times you let him crash at your place, like he’s now used to your kindness; you don’t mind, you’re glad he feels comfortable staying here to the point where he doesn’t have to apologize when he knocks at your door anymore.

You don’t mind, it’s the whole opposite actually; you just wished he would stay.

—

Your cheeks are hot from the booze, or maybe – no, most definitely – from Llewyn’s mouth on your neck. 

His beard is softly tickling your sensitive skin as he kisses and nips at it, forcing a – treacherous – almost silent whimper out of your mouth at the same time you sink your head into the pillows to grant him more access. It makes him laugh, it fucking makes him laugh smugly to see how he’s turning you into putty in his hands. Your hand instinctively buries in his hair to get a grasp onto something, and he gets a taste of his own little game when you softly tug on his thick curls and earn a small moan from him. Good to know.

Your body only feels warmer when his hands roam along the sides of it, slowly but surely stripping you of your layers until your top half is completely bare as he continues his assault over your neck, biting and sucking on it, making sure there will be visible proof that he went there for the guys staring at you too intensely at the bar to see. 

Then his mouth trails down, again and again. He takes his precious time kissing your collarbone, the top of each breast, from your sternum down to your stomach. You cup the back of his neck as his curls softly tickle your skin and as he brings a special attention to your lower stomach, not giving in what he knows you need, teasing as his fingers press onto your hips before they eventually curl into the hem of your underwear as he continues leaving small, warm kisses to your stomach, sliding the piece of clothing off your hips and down your legs before he tosses it away. 

When he finally moves and spreads your legs apart, it’s not to slide his warm tongue over your cunt like you would expect or hope for, it’s to gently kiss your left thigh and run his hand over your skin burning in the feverish heat of anticipation; the prickle of his beard softly teases the ticklish inside of your thigh, his warm mouth just inches away from where you truly want him, the sensations increased tenfold by the booze. Each trail of his hands and mouth leaves you more sensitive, head spinning already when he’s not even giving you what he knows you truly want from him yet. 

When his mouth shifts again, it’s to give your other thigh the same treatment; soft nibbles while his hand gently caresses your warm skin before he runs the tip of his nose from the inside of your thigh up to your knee, looking back up at you desperately waiting for him to do anything concrete. 

“Llewyn please” you whine needily, throwing your head back into the cushions of your bed as he chuckles and slowly makes his way down to the inside of your thigh again, hot breath teasingly fanning there.

“Tell me what you need, angel” he demands, murmuring close to where you want him as his thumb softly brushes your bare thigh. His eyes dart back to you, raising an eyebrow when you only whine his name as a response.

“You” you slur out, fingers wrapping around his forearm to get something to hold onto. His warm, half lidded eyes make something flutter inside your stomach, his mouth and hot breath close to your soaking slit making your breath halt. “Please”

You softly gasp as both of his hands squeeze the flesh of your ass, firmly grabbing onto it to pull your body closer towards him, no longer intent on teasing you or making you wait; he'd make you beg longer if he wasn't so damn eager to taste you. 

He dives in and presses his flattened tongue against your folds, and you feel the same way you did earlier when you got to your feet after a few drinks; your head spins, your lower stomach burns just the way it did when drinking that whiskey. 

It's a bit messy, a bit rushed and maybe even desperate but not even close to being unpleasant as his tongue laps at your slit, beard harshly rubbing against your sensitive skin. 

He hums to himself as his lips close around your clit, sucking and pulling weak moans out of you, looking up at your through half lidded eyes when his middle finger slowly and carefully pushes inside your slick channel, his free hand stroking along your thigh caging his head. 

He’d praise you more if his mouth wasn’t so damn busy, if your reactions weren’t so damn attractive as he mouthed at you pussy and wouldn't dare stopping, because you look so fucking pretty like this. Disheveled, high on pleasure for him, twitching under his tongue and clenching around the finger inside you.

His ring finger is quick to join alongside the other, stroking your tight walls until he meets the spot that makes your back arch and your breath run short.

He’s barely satisfied until he makes you come on his mouth and fingers twice, until his name and your weak moans and whines are all that can come out of your mouth, until your legs are shaking around his head, until you have to ask him to ease up.

Your chest heaves heavily, your whole body burning and seeming to melt into the mattress from the couple orgasms Llewyn just gave you. You smile dazedly when you look back down at him in between your legs, his cheek mushed against your thigh, his eyes closing contentedly when you run your fingers through his dark locks.

You feel your heart thump hard inside your chest again when he crawls back up to you, his mouth pressing against yours before it opens to let his tongue slip inside.

Your movements are hurried as you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, impatiently blindly progressively getting it open before you’re finally able to slide it off his shoulders.

You hum a soft, reluctant groan into his mouth when you realize he’s wearing an undershirt, meaning that you’ll have to pull apart from his mouth to get it off. He takes care of the task, stripping himself off the tshirt before throwing it across the room, and quickly links your mouths again when he hovers over you, letting out a deep groan when you cup and feel him through his pants. 

You can't help but smile into the kiss when he chases your touch, all but humping your hand before you pull it away to undo his pants, his tongue desperately licking into your mouth when he hurriedly – and a bit messily – strips himself naked. You’re pulled away from his mouth as he looks down when your hand closes around him and pumps his cock, his breath halting, hips thrusting to meet your movements.

Your leg snakes behind him to pull him closer, your chest burning again with anticipation when he takes his cock in hand and aligns with your entrance. You both let out a synchronized groan as he carefully pushes inside, easily sliding in, your sensitive channel slick from your previous orgasms, but still tight around him. 

He’s gentle as he starts to thrust in, hand firmly planted besides your head, teeth sunk into his bottom lip in concentration. His vision sways from the alcohol; it was way less noticeable when he had his face in between your legs, when he didn’t have to use the rest of his body, when he didn’t have to rely on balance.

His eyes close when your hand cups his cheek, fingers softly scratching his beard while you whisper praises he’s far too gone to truly take into account, too lost in the feeling of your cunt softly contracting around him. His thrusts grow more and more desperate as he goes, less precise, the muscles of his thighs twitching as the familiar feeling quickly starts to gather inside his stomach, exhaling moans like laying in bed with you is a one time opportunity, like it’s the last time he’s ever gonna do this.

“Not gonna last long,” he mumbles dazedly between breaths before you quickly assure him that it’s okay, your hand cupping the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours again.

His tongue mingles with yours in a heated, desperate kiss before he pulls away and sinks his head against your shoulder, huffing out a loud breath when he feels himself getting close, trying not to tip over the edge before you do.

“Come on dove, come on” he begs you, his warm breath fanning over your neck when one of his hands gently holds onto your waist.

He feels like a lucky bastard that you come just seconds before he does; you let a soft cry out as your last orgasm hits you, this one softer than the two previous ones, feeling like a warmth washing through you as Llewyn stills when he reaches his end and spills inside you, eyes rolling back as a soft groan escapes his lips.

His body crumbles over yours as he lets out a loud sigh, pressing small kisses to your cheek, fingers softly running along your arm.

You want to give the affection back to him, want to kiss him until he's out of breath, but all your body does is close your eyes; Llewyn has drawn all the energy out of you, he has loved you until you became numb.

You instinctively know it's early in the morning when your mind awakes, an unpleasant heaviness clouding your head from the alcohol, and a soft ache between your thighs. You hum softly in your still half asleep state, turning around and changing positions to get more comfortable, reaching for the man you spent the night with, hoping you could snuggle to him.

Your eyes are still shut as you reach for Llewyn, your hand only passing along the ruffles and creases of the fitted sheets of your bed.

Your eyes eventually open when you know you have to come to terms with the fact that he’s gone, he’s fucking gone again.

— 

You don’t know how it has happened again when you only wanted to address the issue at first, still mad at him when he knocked and when you opened the door, still mad that he had left like you were just a meaningless one night stand the other night, someone he would never see or hear about again.

But then he seemed so exhausted, so out of it and so crushed by every responsibility resting over his shoulders that you figured it would be better to bother him with the question later instead of overburdening him now.

Then things slipped, again. So fast and so casually at once, like it was simultaneously the right and wrong thing to do. 

You don’t know why he’s in your bed again, but maybe on your part you do, because you will have to one day just admit that you love him.

You can’t help but feel like you’re missing something regarding him. Why is he in your bed again, sober, head resting over your chest and arms tightly wrapped around your waist if it was all the alcohol’s fault that you stepped further into your relationship the other night? Why is he in your bed again if he regretted it last time and felt he had to run away, again?

You swallow thickly as those questions overwhelmingly cloud your mind, trying to chase them away when you continue to absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft, long curls. It’d be a damn mood breaker to trap him into questions like while you’re still enjoying your respective post-high haze, and you would pass as too fucking ungrateful after the things you have just done, but you have to know why he acts like this, why he runs away but somehow always comes back.

“Llewyn,” his name weakly comes out of your mouth, your fingers stopping in their trail. You can hear your own breathing when you await his response, which eventually never comes. 

He's sound asleep; it'll wait, again.

—

You had almost forgotten Llewyn had been there last night when you wake up to the sound of ruffling around the bedroom.

The only source of light in your room is the full moon light seeping through your window, faint but present enough to make you aware of your surroundings.

Llewyn is standing on the other side of the room, gathering his clothes scattered around the room that you so carelessly threw aside when in a hurry last night.

“What’re you doing” you mumble sleepily as you roll over his side of the bed, arm extending as if to reach for him. He looks over at you like a deer caught in headlights, stopping as his pants are already halfway slid up his thighs.

“I uh, I have to head out” he replies in a low mutter as he resumes his action, approaching and shoving in his pocket the pack of cigarettes laying on the bedside table.

“Don’t,” his gaze darts back at you as you speak, stopping in his movements, in fear that he might have heard it wrong. “Stay” you demand, almost beg as you look up at him, almost all ready to go and leave you hanging like always. He exhales softly and sits down over the edge of the bed, hand reaching out to you to brush your hair back from your face. “Please.” you add, tiredly blinking.

“Okay.” he simply declares in a soft whisper, fingers gently tracing your face. Your eyes close as you lean into his touch, sleep still holding a tight grasp over you.

“Why do you keep leaving” you monotonically, weakly ask, your tone successfully translating the hurt you feel. “All the time” 

He halts and pulls away from you, like your reproach suddenly makes him undeserving of touching you. He takes some time before answering, and you're almost lulled back to sleep before the sound of his voice brings you back to reality and makes you open your eyes again. “I don't want you to think I'm doing all this just for a bed to sleep in” he explains, lips pinching skeptically.

You huff out softly, nuzzling against your arm. “It makes me think you're doing this just for a vagina to stick your dick in, Llewyn.”

“Shit, yeah. I'm sorry” he scoffs and sighs, looking out the window in reflection before looking back at you. “It's just– It's the whole opposite. I care about you. I don't wanna fuck this up” he declares, his hand coming to rest over your extended arm. “I didn't start right, I know. I’m sorry angel.” he pauses, softly chewing on his bottom lip. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

You exhale, somehow ironically relieved that it's only this, that you're not the main part of the problem, that he actually wants you as much as you do. Your stomach flutters at the feeling of his thumb softly rubbing your bare skin, and you weakly but softly smile when you finally look back up at him.

“I only ever wanted you to stay” you mutter, hand reaching to cover his over your arm.

He tiredly smiles back at you, at last erasing the conflicted frown over his face.

“I only ever wanted to stay.”

—

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[minispidey]

I need to hear your most out of pocket HC about your fav Oscar characters that there really isn’t much evidence for but you feel in your soul is right. Can be fluff or nsfw!

For example:

I think Nathan actually likes to be topped and degraded. Do I have any evidence for this? No. Do I know in my pussy gut that I am right? Yeah 😌💅

OUT OF POCKET HCS.

OSCAR ISAAC character headcanons

Content warning: just some real filthy shit. Uses female body descriptions. Breeding kink A LOT. Mentions cheating but doesn't get cheated on.

Characters: Nathan Bateman, Marc Spector, Jonathan Levy, Steven Grant, Miguel O'Hara.

Words: a lot.

Not beta read.

Requested by: @boredzillenial

Author's Note: i wish i could've written more bUT MY BRAIN IS JUST EXPLODING. Btw, thank you for requesting! Reblogs and comments are appreciated 💅❤️

MINORS DNI

I swear. Nathan Bateman's head... you know exactly what I mean. LISTEN YOU SAID OUT OF POCKET SO HERE'S THE FANTASY: just... just grinding on it, your clit getting stimulated by his shaved head— he's not completely bald so I'm saying that if you caress his head, it'll still feel prickly.

Oh but imagine... breeding kink Nathan (tbh just in general i think all oscar characters would have a breeding kink)

Slow strokes, in and out of you. Nathan holding you still— not even in bed, he just wanted to fuck you in his office while idk doing research, but you were just standing in the corner of his office doing god knows what and he's accusing you of seducing him. And now here he was, his research forgotten and fucking you on his seat.

"Hm? When are you gonna learn your lesson that you can't just strut into my office and expect me not fuck the shit out of you?"

"N-Nathan, I wasn't even doing anything-"

"Shh... this'll be your punishment, okay?"

But at the end of it, just cuddling while he worked... but cockwarming him.

"Keep my cum in. Don't wanna waste God's seed, right sweetie?"

"Nathan, just shut up."

The moment you told him to shut up, something awakens in him.

"Slap me."

"Are you crazy?"

"Love, sweetie, honey bunny... please slap me."

Lets you ride him in your own pace for once, and he tried to stop himself from grabbing your hips and slamming you down on his cock.

"Naughty naughty..."

"Sweetie, please... fuck, you're driving me crazy here."

"Aw, don't you wanna cum in me?"

"F-Fuck..."

He fucking whimpers.

"God's seed shouldn't be wasted, right?"

"I'm never letting you be on top again..."

Marc... oh my Marc. I have a mini series coming soon for the Moon Knight boys where Reader is has such a huge crush on Steven, and becomes his girlfriend after confessing. She meets Marc when he fronted, hates him so much and wants to punch him, but he has the face and body of her boyfriend and didn't want to hurt him. Maybe like an enemies to lovers with Marc and Reader, and Steven being happy that they're getting along. Jake will come later to me idk yet.

Imagine just going to bed in one of his shirts. Drives him CRAZY and the next thing you know, your sleepiness disappears as he fucks into you, just in a brutal pace. He loves groping you, breasts, thighs and all. If you're plus-sized/ chubby, he would hold your waist and giving you a squeeze here and there as he fucks you into oblivion.

Would top a lot but he loves it when you ride him and you get overwhelmed by his size.

"Come on, just a few more inches in."

"Marc... too big..."

Size kink applies to all the Moon boys. Well, because they share a body and uses one dick.

Marc just loves pressing against you. He's pretty experimental with the positions. Aftercare with Marc is just heavenly. Bubble bath, washing your body with a loofa. But then he gets turned on again and fucks you in the bath.

You could exist and just breathe, Marc will get turned on (like Nathan tbh).

Jonathan Levy... ugh dilf. An actual one. Expect a long one (tw: mentions mira)

Usually it's the teacher-student love affair with this guy (tbh real) but seriously you can treat him better than Mira.

Something about you keeps driving him crazy to the point that Episode 4 and 5 of the show didn't happen 💅💅

He sees that you're absolutely nothing like his ex wife. And he loves the breath of fresh air. You loved all the things Mira hated about him.

Jonathan loves it when you cup his face and just stare into his eyes. Loves it when you pack him his lunch and put in notes. Brags about it a lot with his co-workers.

Just imagine being in love with him since childhood, being broken hearted when he married Mira, but one drunken night he realized he shouldn't have been chasing after Mira and turned to look at you. You finally had him.

His daughter adores you. Jonathan sees you being so good with children and he immediately goes "I want one with you."

Breeding kink dude. This guy obviously has one. He loves children. (Personally i would give him a football team because he deserves it) when you do get pregnant, he would be so caring and attentive. You're pregnant with his baby so obviously he would spoil you non stop. He would just smile at you whenever you get mood swings and start to get annoyed when he chews too loud.

Just a lot of fucking. Shower, bed, walls, even inside closets. He just adores you. He couldn't believe he was so blind not to see how much you've loved him and he would spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

"Jon, too tired..."

"Need you so bad, hun... just a few more, please? Wanna cum in you again..."

Mira hates you, but since you're you, you always one-up her and you two may or may not have gotten into a fight and Jonathan found you more attractive since then.

You become possessive of Jonathan whenever Mira's around, but Jonathan actually finds it really hot. Expect more than one round of sex with him on those days.

He never cheats on you even if Mira keeps pushing it. You were one of a kind, Jonathan knew how broken-hearted you would be if he did. Jonathan would purposely treat you like a lady in front of Mira, 100 times more than he usually does (which is impossible he already treats you so well)

Just... you make him a better person. You got him on a leash. He's not going anywhere.

Also he definitely loves risky sex. House filled with guests and you two are in the bathroom. He would even make you moan loudly that it'll annoy Mira who is passing by the bathroom. You enjoyed it when Mira's pissed off. You just hate her so much.

Steven oh Steven. Just imagine trying to seduce Steven, and he's just clueless and continues to ramble on about Egyptian history and all, but you're trying to fuck him.

You want him to clear his table of books and just slam you on the table to fuck you. You go back to reality and he's smiling innocently at you as he kept talking.

You just hear nothing. His voice sounded muffled to you as your eyes scanned his face and stops on his nose... his nose.

Big noses. What Doja Cat said.

"Steven."

"Yes, love?"

"I want you to fuck me right now."

Soft sex with Steven. He doesn't want any position but missionary. He loves seeing your face.

Breeding kink? Yes. You all know this by now.

Falls silent when he cums, eyes rolling to the back of his head. It feels so overwhelming but so good. Loves filling you up to the brim.

Sometimes when you leave a pair of panties out, he would fight the urge to jack off to them. He just misses you so so much.

When you come back, he would push you against the wall and attack you with kisses and hickeys.

He also buys you a matching Koala plush keychain for your keys.

Sometimes you just want him to fuck you mercilessly, just slam you around and use you. UGH IM SCREAMING.

And back to the nose thing, he definitely let you grind on his nose at some point.

"C'mon, love... wanna taste you..."

Something about him nerding out just turns you on. You would suck his dick while he's talking. Even after cumming, you don't stop. You love seeing him overstimulated.

They say home is where the heart is. But god do you love the english 💅💅💅

Did he restrain you to his bed at some point? You told him to. And it unlocked a kink.

But do you know what kink Steven would have? Worship. Take it or leave it.

Messy kisses, his light colored shirts are stained with your lipstick. He ends up with his neck filled with hickeys. His back is scarred by your nails.

Risky sex? Fucking in the museum bathroom. Steven looked so hot behind the gift shop that you couldn't help it. Steven's dad material too, talks to kids really well.

So yeah that's when your breeding kink appeared. You wanted him to get you pregnant. He would be a great father.

"Cum inside me, Stevie. Fill me up."

Loves sucking on your tit while groping the other. He wants to make eye contact with you as much as he could while he does it.

Bree- *gunshots*

This one is obvious though. He has a breeding kink and wants to get you pregnant.

Let's pretend Gabriella's alive here and he sees how good you are with her. He wants to have a bigger family with you.

"Gabby said she wants a sibling..."

Yeah. That's when you know, non stop breeding. Even when you're not even ovulating, he just fills you up. He wants to get you pregnant and see how good you look pregnant.

When you start lactating even before you give birth, he'd suck them out. He didn't want to waste good milk.

He treats you like a gentleman but at the same time you want him to slam you down and fuck you.

He's an old fashioned lover boy, romantic dinner and flowers. Gabriella has a babysitter while you two go on a date. She thinks you two are really perfect for each other. She draws you two a lot and you put them on the fridge.

"Daddy, I saw mommy kissing Spider-Man."

You two choked on your breakfast. Miguel hasn't told her yet about him being Spider-Man. He looks at you and smirks.

"Oh, did she?"

Prepare for a long night of degradation. Pulling your hair and jackhammering into you.

"Such a slut, huh?"

"Dumbass, you're Spider-Man. You can't call me a slut for kissing my husband."

He just fucks you harder. Miguel does get tired easily and lets you ride him.

Just... yes. And yes, he does bite you.

[bruciemilf]

Biting Into my fist so fucking hard rn, but I'm DEEP into bruharvey so sit down and listen.

It is absolutely fucking absurd Oscar Isaac and Robert Pattinson haven't done a movie together yet, so I'll be using Oscar for my Harvey fc.

ANYWAY, GODD,

absolutely feral for awkward, shy cat Battinson fighting the board of directors threatening bankruptcy to the BONE, when all he wants to do is be a pediatrician

OBVIOUSLY, he's in love with Harvey, the hot-headed, passionate, justice hungry, newly appointed DA who's looking to whip Gotham's justice system in shape.

Those are boring details tho. Obviously these two have big Feelings for eachother. Bruce cannot converse with Harvey for more than 10 minutes or he'll faint (he'll want to suck cock-)

Harvey for real beats off to:

•domestic fantasies about Bruce being his husband and moving to a quiet, ethereal village where they have no name and no obligations,

•fucking him in front of everyone he perceives as a rival,

•Bruce riding him while saying he was wrong and running with Harvey's campaign bc Harvey's THAT upset they're disagreeing,

▪︎ Adopting kids together,

and thinks " this is completely platonic and also very normal and not at all insane"

I WANT TWO-FACE TO BE THERE. I WANT HIM AND BRUCE TO HAVE THEIR OWN DYNAMIC. I WANT TF WHOS VERY BOLD AND IN YOUR FACE ABT HIS ATTRACTION TO BRUCE.

"Harvey, please, I know Bruce is your best friend but--"

" ...Call him my friend again and I'll rip your pretty lips off :)"

Never underestimate a man's ability to be the dumbest person in the room, because Bruce, certified genius, does not know his best friend has DID.

So you can imagine his confusion when Harvey goes from, this to THAT

Is this just an elaborate way to show off pretty pictures? Maybe.

[so-boredtoday]

The Scent

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been transferred back to the general work zone without explanation after spending a couple of months working with Miguel. You decide to confront him about it but reason for your transfer is not what you expected.

Word count: 4K

Rated: M / NSFW

Tags/warnings: Mating cycles/In Heat, Biting, Scent kink, Knoting, Fluff, Smut, Oral sex, She/Her pronouns, Breeding talk, No beta reader we die as a cowards, Vaginal sex, Pet name, this is not good don’t let the tags fool you, Spanish.

Author notes: So here it’s the first one… I loved Miguel so much and the Oscar Isaac voice is a turn on to me so here we goo!

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

The following week marked the two-year anniversary of your arrival to the Spider Society. Jessica had invited you to join after you helped her deal with an anomaly in your universe. At the beginning you had individual tasks of little importance until your first team mission arrived. You had been assigned to Miguel's group for the first time, he didn't seem to care about anyone in his group, after a couple of missions you were able to start adapting to his rhythm, avoiding getting in his way and tying up loose ends when he needed it.

He liked working with you: You were efficient, something he liked very much and you were not intrusive which he liked even more, you did your solo missions on time and covered him perfectly in battle. You also brought him lunch without interrupting him and made his coffee just the way he liked without having to tell you how.

You did the reports better than anyone else and always had the answers he needed. Plus you are very good at talking to people, could see how you were genuinely interested in what others had to say. You were able to talk to him... which was not an easy task, at first you talked about casual things like Lyla's updates or Hobbie's disasters but soon you started talking about more important things such as the multiverse or even his family.

He had moved your desk into his office a couple of months ago, with the excuse that it would make the work more efficient. But the real reason was that he could see you from there even when you didn't realize it.

Jess started teasing him about how much he liked you but he would always deny it and end up grumpy. He didn't like you...he just thought it was nice how you smiled when something went right or how your hair fell a little messy over your face...well maybe he liked how you smelled… like black cherry and vanilla it was a pleasant smell that he began to get used to. Sometimes his office smelled like you when he arrived in the mornings which made him smile as he started with the day's activities, however right now your sweet smell had started to become a problem.

A couple of weeks ago something started to change in him. He could smell you even before you came into the quarters and being there next to you had become a living hell, your essence was affecting him in unexpected ways.

With you in his office every time you moved a burst of vanilla flooded the room, like when you stretched to straighten up or when you untied your hair it was totally intoxicating.

He felt the need to hold you in his arms and kiss you, just imagining it made his cock twitch inside his suit and it was getting annoying. He knew his rut was close but there were too many things to do in the GQ so he decided - for his own sake and especially yours - to return your desk to its original place.

It had been a couple of weeks of you working in your old space wondering what had happened. In addition to sending you as far away as he could, Miguel had been completely ignoring you and put you to Peter B's mission group. Something was wrong and you needed to find out.

You walked to his office to discuss but Lyla informed you that he was sick so he had taken a couple of days at home. Concerned, you decided to go to his house with a bowl of hot soup with the intention of helping him to get better, but above all to get some answers.

Lyla would help you to remotely open the door for you, the house was beautiful, with an exquisite Scandinavian style but with more earthy tones and small decorative accents of Mexican craftsmanship. Everything seemed to be in its place and there was no trace of dust anywhere. You left the soup on the open kitchen counter to check if he was okay but heard a noise in what seemed like the master bedroom, you approached and heard his voice through the door.

"Mieerda... I can even smell her in here" A knocking noise alarmed you a little and you opened the door cautiously. A book flew next to your head; the room was a mess with pillows torn, sheets disheveled and many items lying on the floor.

"Miguel, are you okay?" you asked as you walked in, his eyes looked confused to see you there "I came to drop off some soup for you...Lyla said you were sick and I was worried tha..."

"Get out of here." he said bluntly as he sat on the edge of the bed to turn his back on you, you walked to where he was “Que te vayas carajo”.

"No" you replied "You've been ignoring me all this time... you even took me back to the main work room... what's wrong Miguel? Did I do something to upset you? If so I didn't mean to, I apologize if..." He made a grunt interrupting you

"You didn't do anything wrong... It's my business go away please" He said with clenched teeth. You ignored his words and moved closer to face him. He looked feverish and he was sweating.

"Miguel you don't look good at all" You said ignoring his words putting your hand on his face.

When you reached his chest, Miguel gave a soft growl in response. His muscles were tense beneath your touch, and you could feel his heartbeat pounding against your hand. Despite this, he still wasn't saying anything.

"You have a fever Miguel, you need some medicine" You told him as you sat down next to him. He started to stand up to walk away "Let me take care of you Miguel" You told him by taking his hand. Miguel's eyes got a little darker, there was something in the air that felt heavy "Please".

As you spoke, Miguel let out another low groan from deep within himself. For some reason, hearing those words coming from you made him feel more at ease than before. He looked up at you, his eyes full of emotion. "I’m sorry," he said quietly. "But you can’t help me”

"I can't do it if you don't tell me what's wrong, trust me Miguel... I just want to help you" I said looking at him with genuine concern.

Miguel hesitated for a moment, but then nodded slowly. Taking a deep breath, he finally opened up about his situation. "I've been feeling these… urges lately they have become so intense that they won’t let me work." he admitted, looking away slightly.

“Urges?” You said confused. “What kind of urges?”

Miguel took a deep breath, hesitating for a few moments before speaking again. "Sexual urges… It comes with powers. I have them from time to time…" he paused before continuing “I had always been able to control them but… They get worse when you're around... your scent… It makes them worse” he confessed in a quiet voice.

"Oh..." You blushed at his confession. "I didn't know sorry… I was so worried… I thought I had offended you in some way " You replied "Or that I had inadvertently jeopardized a mission and I made you angry without realizing it" you continued relieved "I’m sorry Miguel” You told him sincerely “…But don't worry you just need a little help and you'll be fine"

Miguel's face softened as he heard your words. His eyes were still wary though, like he was waiting for something else. "Y-you are going to help me?" he asked softly, sounding hopeful.

"In any way I can" You said to him as you approached him again "Tell me how I can help you Miguel..."

Miguel looked at you with surprise, unsure if he should trust you or not. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke quietly "Pero Cariño… I don’t want to hurt you"

"What could be so bad that would hurt me Miguel?" You asked looking at him tenderly

Miguel nodded slowly, looking relieved. He seemed hesitant but determined too. As you leaned closer, he whispered "I want to bite you..."

"Then do it..." You told him as you moved even closer… Vainilla y cereza negra he thought as he closed his eyes, your scent flooded the room and then without a hesitation you kissed him.

As soon as you kissed him, Miguel let out an animalistic growl in response. You could feel his sharp teeth pressing against your lips, before he started to kiss back passionately. Soon enough, his hands moved up from your waist to grip onto your neck tightly, pulling you closer to him.

“Miguel…” you say with a sight

Miguel responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. His hand slid down your body until it reached between your legs, gently caressing your inner thighs. With each passing second, his desire grew stronger, making him more desperate to possess you completely.

Miguel's hand moved up to remove your jeans. Each movement was accompanied by a soft moan from you, heightening the intensity of the moment. "I want you," he whispered huskily, his breath hot on your skin “I have wanted you for months”

"Take me then" You said looking him in the eyes.

Miguel smiled devilishly before leaning in closer to capture your lips once again. His hands roamed freely across your body as he explored every inch of it, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched. You moaned softly as he pressed harder against you, letting out a growl of desire.

You heard the sound of the fabric of your panties tearing “Miguel… oh my god… they were brand new” You told him in a tone of mock indignation as he carelessly removed your button-down shirt and unclasp your bra to throw it away.

With a wicked grin, Miguel pulled away slightly to admire your exposed curves. Taking in each detail with his eyes, he then leaned forward to claim your mouth once more. As he kissed you deeply, he ground his hips against yours, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Yes… I’m going to prepare you Cariñito”

You blushed when you heard the pet name again. His hands moved slowly across your body, exploring every inch of you with his fingertips. When he finally stopped on your pussy and then on your clit, he began to massage gently, sending shivers through your spine. "Are you already wet for me Preciosa?" he asked huskily.

As Miguel's fingers moved down faster and faster, your breathing grew heavier and deeper. His lips traveled lower, leaving trails of fire wherever they went. When he finally reached your most sensitive spot "I've wanted to taste you ever since I first smelled you...so sweet." The sensation was overwhelming, he started to lick your entrance and you closed your eyes while he made circular movements over your clit. It was overwhelming you tried to close your legs but he stopped them to continue devouring you, at some point your hands were on his head grabbing his hair as you began to tremble and a feeling of pleasure formed in your lower stomach it didn't last long before you were left trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

You looked at Miguel, panting heavily. With a satisfied smirk on his face, he pulled you close and kissed you deeply, savoring the taste of your passion. “Are you ready to take me now Cariño?" he asked.

The interior of your thighs was all wet and your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you gasped for breath “Miguel…” You said almost inaudibly “Please… I need you…”

His eyes darkened as he heard your plea, and he knew exactly what you needed. Without another word, he take you and lay you face down on the bed and lift your hips positioned himself behind you. Taking hold of your hips, he pushed himself inside you in one swift motion. "Ohhh...yes..."

Your face sank into the mattress, silencing a little the scream of pleasure when you felt him deep inside you "My God... Miguel" You moan

As he continued thrusting deeply within you, Miguel let out a low growl that was part pleasure and part dominance. With each powerful movement, he reached deeper and deeper until he couldn't contain the need any longer. "So pretty like this… and just for me… you want me to fuck you harder right Cariño" he said between breaths.

Tears of pleasure streamed from your eyes and as you felt it deep inside, the angle made each thrust touch that soft spot "Yes..." You said in a whisper.

He responded by increasing his pace, pushing himself harder against you with every stroke. His breathing became ragged and his grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Yes… just like that preciosa, cum for me” he murmured softly.

"I’m close…" You moaned, my hands gripped the sheet as you felt him moving inside of you, his hands tightened on your hips as your walls began to contract in their length and your legs trembled trying to hold up.

With each wave of pleasure that washed through you, Miguel grunted in satisfaction and increased his speed. As your orgasm subsided, he slowed down slightly but kept moving inside of you gently, savoring the feeling of being close to you. "That's right, babe, feel it," His knot was forming inside you

As Miguel continued thrusting slowly and steadily, you felt his body trembling from within. With each movement, he seemed to be getting closer and closer to release. His knot was big inside and you could hear the soft sounds of skin slapping together echoing throughout the room, creating an intense rhythm between the two of you. "Take it… take it all of it”

His breathing was heavy and his grip on your hips tightened leaving a red mark. Suddenly, without warning, he let out a loud moan and released himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

As you lay there feeling satisfied by the sensation of being filled up by Miguel's seed. Miguel wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you close to him as he nuzzled against your neck softly. “I need to bite you honey”

You shivered when he put his mouth in the back of your neck and began to give small wet kisses.

As Miguel kissed your neck, you shivered in anticipation, enjoying the warmth of his breath and the gentle touch of his lips. You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the moment, until suddenly, you heard a low growl coming from behind you.

Miguel slowly turned you around, you looked at him revealing that his fangs were now fully extended. His gaze was intense, and his breathing was heavy as he stared at you hungrily. "Don't move," he said in a low voice, before moving closer towards you. A feeling of dread settled in your chest and you closed my eyes in anticipation "Is it going to hurt?" You asked.

Miguel chuckled darkly, but there was no trace of humor or kindness in it. Instead, there was only an animalistic hunger mixed with lustful desire. Without warning, he grabbed hold of your waist firmly and pulled you close, pressing his body against yours. His hot breath brushed against your ear as he whispered. "Yes, it will hurt... but I promise it won't be too bad just stay still”

You let out a sigh with your eyes closed feeling his hot breath on your neck and suddenly a sensation of sharp pain flooded you as he began to bite you.

As Miguel bit harder, you let out a sharp gasp from the pain. You couldn't believe how strong he was, yet also gentle enough not to cause any more harm than necessary. Despite this, the sensation of being bitten made you feel like prey instead of a human.

Miguel's hand went down until it reached your pussy and to make circular movements on your clit. The sensation of pleasure that started to build up inside of you quickly overwhelmed your senses. Your breathing was heavier and faster as you began to moan softly in response to Miguel's hands. Soon, you were lost in a world of pure bliss, unable to think or control yourself completely.

"Vamos cariño, cum for me," Miguel said with difficulty with his fangs still in your skin. As you came closer to orgasm again, Miguel increased the intensity of his movements until finally, you reached your climax once more.

For a moment you forgot that his teeth were still on your neck until he let go. His teeth marks left behind a trail of red lines across your skin, but it didn't hurt anymore thanks to the numbing effect of his venom.

You were breathing heavily as he caressed you tenderly, helped you into his arms and then put his chin on your head. You closed your eyes for a moment as your breathing returned to normal "Are you okay?" He asked you softly

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine" You told him as you smiled, you turned to look at him, his hair was messy and his lips were a little swollen. "How are you Miguel?... I was able to help you?" You said whispering in his ear, he let out a small laugh. No one had ever seen him so relaxed, he looked you in the eyes and started to bring his face closer to yours.

His lips brushed yours for a few seconds and then he kissed you again softly, he took your face gently with his right hand and caressed your cheek. He pulled away from your face slowly to move down to your neck, he gave a couple of kisses on the bite mark and you closed your eyes at the contact "So beautiful… and just for me." He sat on the edge of the bed and carefully helped you onto his lap.

Miguel looked up at you with intense desire in his eyes as you lay on top of him. You both stared deeply into each other's eyes before he leaned forward and kissed you passionately. After several minutes of rough kissing, he pulled away slightly and whispered in your ear, “Ride me Cariño”

Having control after what happened before seemed a bit surreal. You kissed him again as you guided his length to place it in your folds, he let out a grunt as you began to push him inside you "Oh Miguel… you feel so good" You said to him.

Miguel let out a low moan as you rode him, feeling completely enveloped by pleasure. As you continued moving up and down, he reached around and grabbed onto your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him. As he continued thrusting upward, " Who owns this beautiful cunt??"

“It belongs to you Miguel…” You said in a needy moan your walls began to contract as you found the right angle, your eyebrows drew together and you let out a moan. “Only to you…” Miguel responded with a growl as he increased the intensity of his thrusts, pushing himself harder and deeper helping you. You gasped in pleasure as his movements grew more powerful, sending waves of sensation through your entire body when your climax came.

Miguel's breathing became ragged as he approached his climax, gripping you tighter as he plunged deeply inside of you. His eyes closed shut tight, groaning loudly as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through his veins. His knot feels big inside you, he trusted in you a couple of times and he cums again.

You felt his hot cum inside and looked at him as he kept his eyes closed. He looked handsome with his sweaty forehead and breathing erratically, he was still inside you without moving, you could feel his seed sliding down your thighs. That’s when a thought hit you "Miguel..." You said in panic "I'm not on birth control."

Miguel opened his eyes at the sound of your voice and looked back up at you with no worries in his face. "I know," he said softly, his expression turning serious. "In fact, I was hoping for that…” You looked at at him in confusion as he moved carefully to get out of you.

Miguel smiled reassuringly at you before leaning down to kiss you gently. "Don't worry about it," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not going to lie, I was thinking about it when I knot you."

You opened your eyes in surprise. "What are you talking about Miguel..."

Miguel chuckled lightly at your surprise. He kissed you again to stop your words, he moved closer so that his body pressed against yours. His hands began exploring your curves while his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. When he finally pulled away, he looked deeply into your eyes and spoke quietly. "Well, let's just say I like the idea of it," he whispered kindly. You shivered slightly from his words, feeling both scared and excited.

He continued kissing you and caressing your skin until you relaxed, it was then he carefully placed you on the bed so that you would rest. He stood up and walked to the bathroom leaving you alone on the bed for a moment reflecting on his words. After a few minutes he came out of the bathroom with a damp towel and helped you clean your thighs, he noticed how nervous you seemed. "Is everything okay?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you on the bed.

You avoided his gaze for a moment "Miguel... I don't think you're serious, are you?..." You said nervously "About the pregnancy"

Miguel looked at you thoughtfully before speaking again. "I don't want to scare you off, but... yes, I was serious about it." His voice was gentle yet confident.

You looked at him surprised, the idea of having a son with Miguel seemed crazy… you weren't even together... But that didn't stop you from fantasizing about what it would be like, the idea flitted through your mind as he caressed your legs lovingly and the more you thought about it the more it started to make sense. You guys were the best team in GQ and you spent all your time together even when you didn't have any missions. He cared about you as much as you cared about him, he knew you more than anyone and above all he understood you...

Before the rut situation and his sudden estrangement, you began to suspect that he liked you as much as you liked him. Hobbie annoys you with it all the time, Gwen encouraged you to be more flirtatious... Even Jessica hinted at how much he liked you sometimes but you were sure about Miguel’s feelings. He had never crossed the friendship line before this, that made you doubt ."Miguel…” You said with sadness in your voice “Do you really like me in that way or is this all just about your rut?" You asked

Miguel smiled gently at your question, his eyes softening with affection. "Is not about that…” He answered “I care about you… I always have," he said quietly. He said reassuringly. "I care about you deeply, more than anything else in this world. You're important to me” He paused for a moment before continuing. "I've been caring about you since the first day we met. I feel bad when you're not with me... you don't know how hard it was not being able to have you around"

Before he could continue, you kissed him with a tenderness that the two had not shared before. Miguel's face lit up with joy as he felt you kissing him like that. His heart was pounding faster now, but he managed to keep himself calm. He leaned forward slightly and brushed his lips against yours tenderly. "I love you Cariño" he whispered softly.

[avenging-fandoms]

okay but imagine being pedro's wife/baby mama and staying at home with the kids while he's away filming or at events (like the met gala). and then the house feeling full when he returns. maybe you're in the yard with the kids when he gets home and the kids run up to him all excited to have their daddy back :,)

It had been 10 months of phone calls, FaceTimes and watching Pedro on the tv. Your 4 year old, Eliana and 9 month old, Isaac, were desperately missing their dad and so were you. Taking care of them both was a hassle and a half, but thankfully you weren't alone.

Sarah and Oscar both offered, as well as some of your friends to watch your babies on occasion, and you accepted every time. They made missing Pedro and doing it without him so much easier.

“Ellie, would you like to go outside?” It was 75 outside and the perfect weather to just breathe. You grabbed a blanket and some toys, their waters and your sunglasses. You laid out the blanket and opened the porch umbrella, Eliana grabbing chalk from her toy box and drawing on the stone path.

"Mama, I found a worm!" She squeals and you smile, nodding as you bounce Isaac. She continues to draw and you put on some Raffi on the speaker, singing along to 'Down By The Bay' as Isaac watched you with a smile. "Can I draw in the driveway, Mama?"

"Yes, please do not go near the road my sweet girl."

"Okay Mama!" She grabbed her chalk and dirtied her shirt, setting them down gently and scribbling a picture. You were amazed at how smart and wonderful Ellie was and you loved your children more than anything.

A car honks from down the street rapidly and Eliana looks at you and runs to you, clinging to your side. You smile at the license plate, kissing her head and laughing as you tell her she's okay.

Eliana watches the car pull into the driveway and her face lights up. "Daddy!" She screams and he swings his door open, Eliana moving her little feet as fast as they could into her dad's arms.

Pedro engulfed his daughter in his arms, falling out of his squat to a roll on his back in the lawn as he kissed his daughter's face. "Mi princesa, I missed you so much mí amor."

"I missed you too!" She giggles and you stand up as they sit up. "Mama missed you too." Pedro stood up, a smirk on his face as he held eye contact.

"And I missed Mama." He smiles and wraps his arm tightly around you, right hand on Eliana's head as he kissed you. "My goodness." He breathed and kissed you over and over, slightly dipping you and you laugh.

"I missed you too, Pedro." His eyes fell to Isaac and he wanted to cry. “He missed you the most.”

Pedro started to cry as he took his son in his arms. “He’s so big now.” He cried, and your heart broke. “I missed him getting bigger.”

Pedro’s voice was broken. He sat on the grass and Eliana went over to Pedro, rubbing his back with her head on his shoulder. “Are you okay, Daddy?”

“I’m alright, sweetheart. I just missed you guys so much.” You sat on the other side of him and laid your head on his shoulder, which only made him cry harder.

“I’m sorry, Pedro. I sent you a bunch of photos and videos and FaceTimed you so you missed nothing.”

“But I did, Yn. I can’t do this again.” He cried and you looked at him, nodding. “I missed so much with you and my children, I left you with a month old baby and a 4 year old. I’m a bad dad and husband.”

“You work for your family, Pedrito. You are not a bad dad or husband, so knock it off with that.”

Pedro sniffled as he held his son’s head in his hands, rubbing his thumb over his son’s cheek. “He’s so beautiful.”

“He looks just like you, Pedro.” You smile and kiss his cheek. He looks at you and kisses you softly.

“Eeeewwww!” Eliana exclaims and you laugh, grabbing her from behind Pedro and tickling her while giving her kisses and she giggled.

Pedro looked at you playing with Ellie and his eyes welled again. He didn’t want to miss another one of these beautiful memories. He waited his whole life for these moments, and he’ll never let them slip away ever again.

[jakecockley]

- your smile, you're everything -

✧ pairing: jake lockley x f!reader (main) , marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

✧ summary: you're in the kitchen cooking something up for your boyfriend, jake. when you turn to look at him and he looks back at you, your heart swells. jake feels the exact same way, maybe even more.

✧ genre: fluff/soft comfort

✧ warnings: none at all, this is pure adorbs ! ♥︎ 

✧ word count: 374

✧ author's note: i'm still not over moon knight and i never will be, ok. this show is everything to me and frankly, i'm still fascinated with it. i absolutely love the moonboys and i might post drabbles of them in the future depending on how this one goes. (tagging @marc-spectorr n @slenderclaw because i love them and they share their love of oscar isaac and mk with me-) this one's short !

do i have a favorite? noooo, ofc not- (jake mi amorcito 🫠🖤)

"You smile a lot more since we've met." You told your lover, brushing the soft, ebony curls away from the frame of his face.

Jake didn't answer you right away. As corny as it sounded to him, he was losing himself in your eyes. God, he was starting to become like Steven, when he'd stare at you like some lovesick teenager, but Jake didn't care.

He could care less at this point, especially when you looked at him the way you did, as if he was the prettiest damn thing on Earth.

"I think my magic is working," you grinned, "you have a really pretty smile, you know. Really makes my day to see you like this, baby."

Ooh, no, no, after that, he knew he didn't deserve you. If he told you that, you'd spend hours giving him a whole lecture on why you disagree with him.

His smile grew a bit more at the thought.

When you cradled his face in your hands and softly rubbed your thumbs across his cheeks, he felt weak in the knees. It was a loving and kind gesture that Jake absolutely fell for.

"Really, huh?" He chuckled.

And it was funny to him, how he came to love your touches, cuddles, and everything in between. To think how before he hated physical touch, wasn't used to it at all but, to his surprise, you were patient enough with him, and as time passed, he became addicted to the feeling of your hands on him.

He fell in love with you each passing day, like a love-drunk fool. Marc would make fun of him for it, Steven too, even while they acted the exact same way when they were around you.

They all loved you.

"Yes, really really." You leaned forward to kiss his nose, then his lips.

"Now come on, food's about to get cold," you told him before pulling away to walk to the table, which had Jake almost let out a whine.

"One more kiss, amor?"

He heard your laughter in the dining room, the sound of it making him feel all bubbly inside.

"Why don't you sit down and I'll think about it, Lockley, hm?"

He smiled.

Who was he to refuse you?

liked this fic ? check out my current and future ones on my moon knight masterlist !!

[ominoose]

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫-𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

Summary: Random drabble's about Steven Grant meeting other Oscar Isaac characters. No Marc or Jake co-concious, only referenced. Characters: Basil Stitt, Leto Atreides, Poe Dameron A/N: This randomly hit me and I wanted to write it because it was funny. Used a spinny wheel for it. Also idk if BB-8 can do that but now he can.

London was it's usual muggy, busy self as Steven ran down the street, hoping to catch the bus to work. It had been hard enough to get a job after the Museum Incident, but maintaining a position was proving to be a much harder endeavor between his abnormal sleeping patterns and head mates.

"Oi! Wait, please!" Steven was within touching distance just as the bus sped off, and at the lack of anything to rest his weight on or break his fall, the man found himself tumbling face first into traffic.

☽ 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐭 (Lightningface)

+ When Steven first wakes up in the apartment, his first thought is that he's woken up in a bomb site. The apartment is a mess, furniture and clothes strewn everywhere haphazardly. He's momentarily glad Marc isn't replying in his head, knowing the American would have an aneurysm over the state of the place.

+ Basil is the one to find Steven, jumping up from his spot on the couch and staring at him like he's an alien. The first thought in his mind is that Ricky the Monkey did some crazy magic and brought a clone to replace him. Poor Steven barely has a chance to process the situation before he's trying to calm his scarred, other American look alike down and explain his situation. Nothing manages to convince Basil there isn't some magic going on here, but he stops viewing Steven as an evil replacement.

+ After the initial shock and awkward introductions, they manage to sit down and chat for a few minutes. Basil shares the story of the lightning strike, insisting that its imbued him with magical powers. Steven, bless his heart, immediately believes this and boasts about his own moon powers too.

"You know, I've always wanted to try jumping off the roof and flying, have you done that?"

"Oh no, my mate Marc usually handles that, but maybe we can practice together? Have you got a suit as well?"

"Yeah, it's this paper bag and bed sheet I fixed up myself! C'mon, I have a stool on the balcony-"

"Wait, hang about.... Actually, mate, on second thoughts, lets not."

+ Steven ends up convincing Basil to properly fix his apartment, not just brush away the broken shards and dust. So that's what they do for a while, busying themselves as they theorize on how to get Steven back home with only a handful of brain cells between them. Basil listens with surprising intensity when Steven ends up branching off into Egyptology tangents, and likewise Steven nods along when Basil brings up all the documentaries he'd watched recently. In the end, the apartment does end up in much better shape, and the pair become quite chummy.

"Damn. Thanks for the help... Maybe I did overreact a bit."

"Yeah, it's no problem bruvs, it happens. Surprised the doctors didn't give you anymore meds, though I suppose over here its not like the NHS."

"Oh, no I didn't go to the hospital."

"...You wot?!"

𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 (Dune)

+ Coming to on hot, sandy slabs is enough of a trigger point to Steven Grant as they come. Coming to on hot, sandy slabs with weird astronauts in suits pointing space guns at him goes beyond frighting and circles back into 'Shit yourself' territory. Thankfully they seem to speak English. Unfortunately, his high pitched screams and babbling British noises don't make sense to them while they peer down their guns at him with confusion. It isn't until a booming voice draws everyone's attention that Steven gets a chance to breath.

+ Said breath is swiftly knocked back out of Stevens lungs when a wiser, nobler and older version of him walks into the room, commanding the attention of every single space soldier in the room. The man stares down at him as he lays huddled on the ground, curled into himself, and quirks a single well groomed eyebrow at him.

"I am Duke Leto of House Atreides. You have penetrated your way into my home. Who are you?"

"I-I-I'm S-Steven Grant. Of the... Giftshop."

The Duke continues his stony stare at Steven for a few seconds longer before holding out a calloused hand.

"Well Steven of the Giftshop, I think we both have many questions for one another, and hopefully some answers."

+ When Steven finally gets over being starstruck at the dignified, royal version of himself, and when Leto makes the accidental mistake of mentioning that they're billions of years in the future on another planet, Steven freaks out, having a 10 minute long panic attack. When that's over he geeks out instead, asking a million questions about technology, using apologies as commas and full stops.

"Do people still know about Khonshu in this era?!"

"I'm afraid I am not familiar with that name."

"Lucky sod."

+ Leto thinks the strange, weird sounding clone of himself is a schizophrenic long lost cousin, but at lease he isn't trying to kill him over a title. It's not as common in Arrakis, or the general noble courts, to find someone as earnest, honest and willing to learn as Steven seems to be, which earns him a surprising amount of respect from the Duke.

𝐏𝐨𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 (Star Wars)

+ Waking up in a space ship that's doing somersaults mid-battle while dodging and weaving around beams trying to explode it out of the sky was almost as stressful as waking up on a London bus at 8am. Commendably, Steven didn't scream or cry, but simply had a silent panic attack until a rolling white and orange ball started beeping at him, or rather the ridiculously handsome version of him currently flying the plane.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get on my cruiser?!"

"Bloody hell, not another handsome American me!"

"What?! BB-8, check for a concussion!"

+ After being given a water bottle by the polite little droid, Steven finally managed to calm himself down by the time the ship touch down and the pilot in matching droid colours sprang before him, launching question after question. When he clocked Stevens face, he was speechless, brows slowly knitting over his eyes as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him. Mid stare-down BB-8 nicked the Brits skin, running a quick diagnostic test and beeping the results out to the pilot who's eyebrows swiftly un-knitted at the noises.

+ Taking advantage of the silence, Steven tries to explain himself and his situation, insisting he comes in peace and simply wanted to get home before Donna got another excuse to give him the sack. The pilot finally introduced himself as Poe, the best pilot in the resistance at that, and with a sigh he promised to try and figure out how to get Steven back to whatever galaxy London was from.

+ Poe tries to explain the resistance and the empire to Steven, who in turn compares it to Ammits cult and jointly rants about those who take choice and freedom from the innocent. Poe is happy enough that his weird blood ancestor is with the resistance, even if he does constantly regard him with a quirked eyebrow, wondering how in the universe he managed to evolve from this walking concussion. For a second time Poe is rendered silent as Steven mentions being Moonknight.

"Oh yeah, I've done that too, at least those Jedi blokes doesn't send their jackals after you though!"

"You've... fought? In battle?"

"Course, yeah. Fought off giant gods back to the underworld, stopped the day of reckoning as the souls of the living were flooding the underworld. It was just the other day actually."

"...You killed god?!"

+ Steven absolutely adores BB-8 and Leia, a feeling the bot and all of the resistance seem to happily return, much to the dismay of Poe. Steven's quite flustered from all the attention and questions, leaving Poe to drag him away in a huff, claiming they need to get back to figuring out how to send him home. It feels like a babysitting gig more than anything, but deep down it strokes Poe's ego when Steven ooh's and ahh's at all his resistance tales.

[m00nsbaby]

Glitter & crimson.

Marc Spector x F!Reader.

Next part.

Tags - warnings. College AU, no mentions of Jake/Steven, suggestive but not smut, cheating.

For my Pedrito Pascal / Oscar Isaac girlies I’m so sorry but Joel is indeed based on Joel Miller pre-outbreak lol.

Word count. 2.1k

Summary. "Marc is clever. One word I wouldn't like to use is manipulative, but I wouldn't be lying; he knows exactly when and how to do things.” 

He knows Joel is watching, that one misplaced look and the false confidence he puts in him will be gone, so he carefully chooses his words and makes everyone else believe he would never cross the line with you.

You seemed to be in denial of the obvious, because above all the bad that could be behind that puppy face, there was the fact that he was your best friend, and you loved him, no matter if he was a good or bad person.

A talent he didn't know he had until he met your boyfriend was that of acting. Choosing which mask to wear on each occasion to his advantage.

When Joel was with you, he always kept his distance. After greeting you with a hug, you wouldn't feel Marc's hands on you again until the moment he was about to leave, giving you the most insipid hug he could manage as a way to say ‘goodbye’.

When you were alone, the story was completely different, and both, like two peas in a pod from the first time you exchanged words, spent time together as if you needed each other to breathe.

Though, for Marc, that's exactly how it felt.

The fact that Joel was older than you didn't help. Not so much older that your relationship would be something weird, rather enough for him to have slightly more adult concerns like work and taxes while you were still suffocated by university worries.

You saw each other maybe two or three times a week, but neither of you minded. (Marc didn't mind either; the farther apart he was, the better.)

"The couple of the century." Applause greeted you as both joined the party. You rolled your eyes, knowing they were just teasing, Marc, on the other hand, pretended to bow with one hand while the other rested on your lower back.

Apart from your group of friends, there were at least ten more people, nothing too wild. More like a typical party for young adults, students with enough budget to survive the next two weeks.

"Do you want something to drink?" Amidst the music and noise of the crowd, Marc had to lean in close to whisper in your ear.

His hand never left your body.

"I’ll have whatever you have." You smiled, leaning in enough for him to hear you.

You felt the stares of others fixed on you. Even at this point in your lives, you were not exempt from gossip.

And it seemed that you both were determined to feed the rumors; you, unconsciously, and Marc, enjoying pushing the narrative that you were an adorable couple without a care in the world about a guy in his 30s with a stupid job at a construction company.

When Marc returned with your drink, he sat next to you on the couch, tapped your glass before taking a sip of his, and his free hand rested on your thigh, specifically on the part where your dress didn't cover your skin.

You were used to it. To him. To his hands.

"And when will you make it official?" Someone asked, breaking the moment of intimacy between you both.

"Make what official?"

"Our thing, silly," Marc replied with a teasing smile on his lips.

"But we're not..."

"Soon," he interrupted, this time looking at the girl who had asked, someone from the classroom, one of those who said out loud how much they wanted 'a Marc in their life.'

You rolled your eyes, smiling, and quietly sipped from your glass.

You didn't question it. Little did you know that Marc took every opportunity to make you look like his to the eyes of others.

Gradually, the party started to take shape, you felt more and more crowded among the people, and the volume of the music began to rise until you couldn't continue chatting.

"Let's dance." You nodded immediately as the sofa began to fill up with strangers, and you let Marc pull your hands to get up.

"I can't stand this dress anymore." You said, adjusting the hem of it with your fingers.

"I'll help you take it off later." his lips brushed your ear as the number of people on the impromptu dance floor forced you to bump your bodies together.

"Idiot," you said, laughing, while your hands held his, and your hips began to follow the rhythm of the music slowly.

This was Marc's favorite part, even though he always ended up struggling with his tight pants for reasons beyond his control.

"Is tonight still on?" He whispered when he had you close. You were facing away from him, and your hips continued moving against your best friend's, his hands slowly traveling up and down your waist.

"When have I canceled a sleepover?" You raised your voice, looking over your shoulder at him.

Poor Marc was about to have an orgasm in the middle of his university friends, but could anyone blame him? Your body rubbed against him in that short, tight dress.

He mentally thanked the loud music for silencing his moans every time you moved to the perfect rhythm.

"I-I just wanted to be sure."

"Are you tired?" Your movements slowly stopped as you planted a kiss on his cheek. "You're sweating."

"I'm hot." It came from his throat as if someone were strangling him. He even cleared his throat. "Very."

"Let's have a drink and come back." You gave him a little push to make way for you, and he walked behind you, one hand on your hip as an excuse not to lose you among the crowd.

A sigh of relief escaped both of you when you entered the kitchen, closing the door behind you. There was no one else, and the music felt noticeably quieter.

"What do you want? I'll treat you," you joked as you looked at the grouped bottles of alcohol next to the soft drinks. You grabbed two plastic cups.

"Give me the house specialty."

"Say no more." You served two glasses of mineral water without hesitation. When Marc noticed, he couldn't help but laugh as he held his cup.

With a jump, you climbed onto the counter table, spreading your legs to make room for him. It was as if your body worked automatically when it came to Marc. Like clockwork, he settled between your legs to continue drinking from his glass.

"I can't believe I used to hate mineral water before I met you."

"It's spicy water. How could you hate it?" You tried to stifle a laugh.

He laughed with you. One of those silly laughs where the alcohol in your system speaks for you, and the dream of being with someone you love makes things twice as fun as they really are.

The laughter died down little by little, Marc rested his forehead against yours and kept his eyes closed, along with that silly smile.

"Everyone is talking about us." you whispered after a few seconds of silence.

"You're my fake girlfriend after all." you laughed again.

"You have to stop, you'll get me in trouble with Joel.” Just the mention of his name made Marc's stomach churn. He bit his lower lip to avoid saying what he really thought.

"Oh, really?" He opened his eyes again, moving his head slightly to lightly brush the tip of his nose against yours, making you smile. His fingers pressed against your thighs, and you gasped when he pulled you closer to his body with a single tug. Now you were sitting on the edge of the counter.

"Marc?" You swallowed hard when you noticed his gaze fixed on you. The playful and teasing air had suddenly vanished.

"Uh-huh?" He licked his lips, and your gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth. You had felt this kind of impulse before, but you always did your best to ignore it. Even before you met Joel.

He noticed the change in your expression and almost smiled triumphantly. After years, you were beginning to let your guard down. Without waste time; his body leaned forward, and suddenly his lips met yours. You had waited so long for this that you almost stole a moan from each other.

Marc's lips were delicious, even though it hurt you to admit it. Beyond the taste of beer and mint, you could feel him in your mouth, and that was so much more intoxicating than every drink he had prepared for you throughout the night. 

It was desperate, as if he wanted to show you just how much he had desired you over the past years. You felt his tongue exploring your mouth, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, and his hands roaming from your waist to your thighs again and again.

His jeans became uncomfortable again when he managed to make you whimper against his mouth. With you on the edge of the counter, it wasn't hard for him to push his hips against you, grazing your thigh in an attempt to find some relief to his growing boner.

For a moment, he considered it might be a dream; it wouldn't be the first time he had this kind of dream about you. But his alarm always managed to bring them back to reality just as he was about to reach the best part.

Just like now.

Oh no, wait, that wasn't his alarm.

It was your ringtone.

Like a bucket of cold water, he had to snap out of it. You pulled away from him, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged, and lips swollen and moist from Marc's hungry kisses.

"It's Joel." Of course, it was him. It was always him.

You didn't even give him a chance to fully react as you hastily escaped from his embrace and left the kitchen. It felt like the walls were closing in on you, and you felt suffocated.

The garden seemed like a better option.

"How's the party going?" Your boyfriend's cheerful voice on the other end of the line made your stomach churn.

As you licked your lips, you could still taste Marc.

"Amazing, love." You looked at the pair of guys lying on the grass, tipsy and probably about to fall asleep.

"Is Marc there with you? Will you both come back together?"

You swallowed hard.

"Yes, I... yes." A few seconds of silence. Joel was used to your chatty version, the one who started conversations in the worst situations.

"Oh..." More silence. "I'm glad, it's safer that way." His tone of voice indicated he was serious. Another blow to the stomach knowing the trust he placed in both of you. "Will I see you on Sunday?"

"Of course, love." You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a few seconds as if trying to console yourself.

"I won't interrupt you anymore, sugar." As if sweeping away that uncomfortable atmosphere, he returned to his playful and affectionate tone, one that you rarely didn't hear. "I love you, can't wait to see you."

"I love you." You were out of breath. "See you."

You waited in the yard until Marc got tired of your absence. You didn't function well without each other, and in social situations, this was no exception. He came out silently, not asking anything, and you were grateful he didn't.

He placed his red jacket over your shoulders before taking your hand, and you didn't reject him; you never could. You intertwined your fingers together, and it was you who led him to the car.

The car that belonged to both of you, if that made any sense.

The ride back home was silent.

Despite the heaviness in your chest, you couldn't help but let things flow with Marc. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't give him the cold shoulder or ask your body to feel uncomfortable with him.

Both of you prepared to sleep in the usual way. He didn't look back as you took off your dress, and you stood side by side at the sink while brushing your teeth. He did his best to ignore that you were wearing Joel's T-shirt to sleep for days now.

With a gentle push from Marc when it was time to go to bed, you laughed a little and felt a bit more at home with his company.

You followed the routine; he opened his arms to welcome your body, and you snuggled up to him as closely as possible. The way he held you made you sigh with relief.

This was definitely your favorite place. Your home was in Marc Spector's arms.

"I love you, you know that, right?" He whispered in your ear, silently praying that his scent would linger in Joel's stupid shirt.

You nodded slowly, unable to contain your smile.

"I know, Marc." A shiver ran down his spine as he felt your breath on his neck. "I love you too."

If only you said it in the way he wished.

He fell silent when the screen of your phone lit up, partially illuminating the room. He squinted slightly and, as he identified the small heart on the contact name of the text message, he knew who it was from.

Rolling his eyes, he tightened his hold on you, eliciting a playful groan from you. He kissed your hair before snuggling with you, a smile on his face.

Was this going to become a competition? Then so be it.

[nerdieforpedro]

The Man Next Door

Jake Lockley x plus size black female reader

This blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: approx. 4.1k

Summary: You've been eyeing your neighbor Jake for the last few months. A major even and discovery puts things into perspective. You make your move after the dots are filled in.

Warnings: Mentions of blood (various amounts), violence, one minor character death, sprinkles of Spanish, first aid, unprotected P in V (wrap it IRL), aftercare

Notes: My first Moon Knight fic! 🥰 It's been in the works for a bit. It's a half of a request for @megamindsecretlair I asked her what she wanted in it and she told me. We'll see if I delivered on that or not. 😄Dividers are designed by the wonderful @saradika-graphics ❤️

Main Masterlist / Moon Knight Masterlist/ Oscar Isaac characters

Sometimes he has blood on his hands, attempting to wipe it off with a rag, other times there are small drops of splatter on his chin and cheek as he gives you a morning nod before you head off to work.

He’s never without a drop of crimson on him, no matter what time of day you happen to spot him. It makes you keep your distance from him, not indulge in idle chatter like your other neighbors in your apartment building, ask to borrow items or even keep a package or two for you.

You’re curious about him, about Jake Lockley.

He’s been your next door neighbor for six months. You haven’t heard anyone in his apartment or seen anyone visit. It was odd, that you’re sure of. He only gets a few pieces of mail and seldom any packages. Never rude and never too friendly either. A fair distance away from any who may try to get to know him.

You wonder if you should have ever spoken to him now. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen him and had your morning farewell nod. You walk from the bus stop to work each day, it’s less than ten minutes and you count it as your exercise. This is the night you see him again, your neighbor. Walking home like every other night, you happen to hear a thud and look in its direction. Sure you left work an hour late due to your boss being a dick and wanting you to finish putting together the reports for tomorrow, but at least you got overtime out of it so you hadn’t minded too much. Maybe you should have.

You can’t say it’s completely unexpected, there’s only so many reasons Jake would have blood on him but it’s still shocking. It’s not everyday you see your neighbor standing in a pool of someone’s blood. Honestly you can’t tell the gender or the person or ethnicity from the distance and from the amount of blood.

There’s just so much. Dripping from his hands, splashes on his face and clothes.

No wait…the clothes are odd. They went from some off gray looking robes to his normal jeans, and jacket. Maybe you’re hallucinating. It’s then that you feel a hand on your arm.

“You know him, don't you woman? What do you know about him? Tell us!” When you turn to see who the hand belongs to, you’re met with a knife that grazes your cheek. There are four men in addition to the one holding you for a total of five. You’re shaking your head, it’s not a lie, you don’t know anything about the man other than his name and that he lives next to you. His grip strengthens on your arm as you try to pull away from him and the other men watch amused at your attempt to try and escape. Their laughs are replaced by curses as you stomp on your assailant’s foot and drop your bag to punch him in the face. He’s stunned so his grip loosened finally to give you a chance to go for the knife and you do.

There’s blood on you now. Not on your hand you punched the man with, but on the knife and your white button down from where you went for your assistant’s neck. He’s holding the side of it, trying to apply pressure but he’s shaky on his feet. One of his friends, you assume, grabs him to help him but he slumps in his arms, the man’s hand falling slowly from his neck.

Did you just kill someone? What the hell is happening?

(Khonshu): Is that the woman you glance at and who occupies your idle thoughts Jake? I thought she was one of the many worms. It appears she is not. You may want to don the suit again. She has spirit, but not skill nor strength. She’ll not last long.

(Jake): I hear you loud and clear, you old bird. What is she doing here anyway? She’s normally off work and at home by now. I know her routine and she doesn't change it by much. I knew she had a little fire in her, she went right for the neck, most would have gone for an arm or torso.

The three other men are circling you, screaming at you about their fallen friend and how they’re going to take their time in torturing you no matter if you actually know anything about Jake or not. You lunge at the man closest to you, going for his neck as well since that did the other man in, but he caught both your arms and chuckled.

“Luck like that only strikes once bitch!” He presses his fingertips into your wrists, but you keep hold of the knife, it’s the only weapon you have. But you start to smell more metal - iron, no there’s more blood. It’s not on you, or it wasn’t until the goon holding you falls forward and to step back to avoid his body hitting yours, wrists free, but you’re falling. It seems among all that scuffle, you’d been near a curb and you’d stepped off awkwardly.

You don’t hit the ground though, instead you’re in strong arms. The same gray you’d seen earlier except now there’s a mask, cape and a moon in the middle of his chest? He supports you as you stand up. You’re still holding onto your knife though, adrenaline running through your veins as you hold it close to your chest. He holds your shoulders and gives them a soft squeeze to help you pay attention.

“Mira! Hola! (Look! Hello!) Tch…” Jake’s trying to get your attention but it’s not working. This whole gentle thing isn’t his norm and he can see that your eyes aren’t registering him or his words at all. Not even him squeezing your shoulders, he’s worried that squeezing them harder will result in an injury and the suit only heals him, not you. The blood dripping from your cheek angers him and the men are only knocked out now. He needs to get you out of here so he can come back and find out information from them - slowly and painfully. He releases you and picks up your bag, then tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he doesn’t have time to console you, not that he would be any good at it. He hears you squeal then yelling and shifts your back to the same arm he’s holding you with, then pinches your hip.

“Silencio! (Quiet!)” Your body tenses in his arms as he makes his way to the apartment building. He jumps to the fire escape outside of his window as he usually keeps it open for when he doesn’t feel like using the door. He removed that suit before heading in, donning his street clothes and carrying you inside, setting you down on his couch. You’re sniffling, but not crying loudly or yelling anymore which Jake is thankful for. He goes to get a small first aid kit. It was included with some beer he bought when he last shopped for anything really and hasn’t been opened. Kneeling in front of you, he sighs as you’re still looking forward, he’s wondering if he’ll still get soft nods and hellos after this. You might even see if you can move from the building. He wets some gauze with some saline and dabs your cheek, finally you respond by hissing from the sting.

“Oh, now you’re paying attention princesa (princess)? You’re in my place by the way. Stay still.” Jake gives you a brief smile before dabbing your cheek a few more times and applying some antibiotic ointment. It’s not nearly deep enough for stitches or even the little strips they have in here, but he still hates that you were there at all, let alone that you’re not only injured but you also had to kill to survive.

“I..so that was all real, not a nightmare? Oh…so I killed…” You finally drop the knife and in klangs on the floor, your hands take hold of your knees, covered halfway by your pencil skirt. Your realization sinks in that no, it was not some crazed fearful dream from watching way too much FBI in one night. No, there had been a fight, there had been blood and you had indeed killed someone.

“It was self-defense hermosa (gorgeous). That’s all it was. You wouldn’t have had to if I wasn’t slow in getting to you.” Jake takes your hands in his. You finally look at him. He looks like every other day, black leather jacket, dark gray t-shirt, dark wash jeans, a wry smile on his face and it’s surrounded by his dark shadowy stubble. When did he change clothes? His eyes are unexpectedly warm in their chocolate pools. You hadn’t really looked at them before, always in passing. You nod and close your eyes. He’s telling you what you want to hear, but you know what you did with that knife. “Come on, let’s get you next door. You should wash up and change clothes. Don’t touch your face though.” He instructs and you follow him to your feet as he stands and walks to his door. His apartment has the same brick walls, though his are more sparse with decorations though you see many books. You didn’t expect any and you’re not sure why.

You aren’t able to find your keys, your hands are shaking so badly and you’re crying again, silently since he told you to be quiet. He regrets that a bit. You’re not accustomed to death and violence as he is, of course it's shocking, most would find it so. “May I princesa?” Jake holds out a hand, he’s not going to force it, it’s not the time. You hand him your back and he searches for half a minute. The bag is large and looks like you keep a lot of ‘just in case’ stuff in it. He finds your keys and unlocks your door, but doesn’t enter with you.

“You’re not coming in? I…” Your voice fades out. You want to ask him to stay, you don’t want to be alone, but would he even want to? He likely thinks you’re a wimp for crying, why would he even want to stay? “N-Never mind Jake see-”

“I’ll be back. I need to tie up loose ends princesa. Just take a nice slow shower, if you get your face wet, clean and apply some more ointment and eat something. You did well, you survived. Don’t feel bad about it at all.” He’s spoken more to you now than he ever has. On one hand, this eleates Jake as he was never really sure how to start a conversation with you, but under these circumstances, it’s far from ideal. His arms wrap around you, bringing your head to his chest. He still smells a little metallic like blood but now like the books in his apartment and cigarettes? You’d never seen him smoke, curious, but not your focus. His heartbeat is steady and one hand touches the back of your neck, his fingers run up into the small hairs you have at the back edge of your hairs, those little ones that no amount of hair grease or edge cream will tame. He’s playing with them though before he lets you go abruptly. “Hasta leugo princesa (See you later princess).” And he’s back to his apartment. Gone that fast. His warmth lingers on your neck and the front of your body and it’s what you ponder while you’re in the shower.

Peeling off your clothes and showering was the easy part. The clothes went in their own small trash bag and would go out with tomorrow’s garbage. It was trying to eat, you made a sandwich and only ate half of it, then there was soup, which normally you love, but the smell made your stomach curl. Eventually, all of the sandwiches went down with some water and on the couch you sat. Alone with your thoughts. You don’t feel any different, but you know what you did with that knife. The blood, the men’s threats, the fear you felt, Jake being covered in blood. What was he going to do when he came back? Where should you even start with your questions? It had been a few hours by this point and you’re staring at the wall when there’s a knock at your door. Standing and hurrying to the door, a familiar voice uttered one word.

“Princesa.” It was the fastest you’d open the door for anyone.

Jake sits down from you on your couch and explains to you who he is, who he serves and why he usually has blood on him. It’s fantastical and had it been any other day, you’d told him to get out and avoided him like he was insane. But the events of the night had told you to believe him and it was honestly better to think he was punishing those causing harm to others than being a serial killer or something else. You do notice something though, Jake appears to be nervous, which is weird, his eyes are darting around and he keeps clearing his throat and moving on the couch, like he can��t get comfortable.

“Did you want to sit in the armchair? You might find it more comfortable.” Your offer makes him stop moving and sigh. Jake’s a little worked up since he’d been doing a lot more of Khonshu work, normally he’d drink to ease himself into some sleep. He should leave. Now. You’re freshly showered, took down a man despite being scared out of your mind, and he held you too long earlier, much too long. He meant to calm you with that hug but it instead had him in his thoughts again.

He shouldn’t have watched you stand either, your wide hips make Jake want to do more than pat them as do the soft caramel of your legs that he sees as you glide over to your fridge to offer him water. He stands as you bring him the water and he gulps it down, thanking you as he starts toward the door.

“W-Wait, you’re leaving already Jake?!” He needs you not to call for him like that. You sound like you need him and…that’s not something he can handle right now.

“You’re okay now. I shouldn’t stay any longer princesa.” He doesn’t turn to face you. If he sees your eyes he’s not going to leave. He knows what he’s feeling is partly from all the fighting but not entirely and that’s the part his mind has latched onto and won’t let go of.

“Could I at least have another hug before you go Jake?” You’ve said his name softly, almost with care. How can he say no now? He did give you a hug earlier. He turns to see that you’ve dropped your robe and you are wearing a red silk nightgown that just barely covers your bottom. Your eyes aren’t telling him you want a hug, at least, not just a hug.

“Hermosa, I don’t think that’s all you want from me. Let’s both be honest here. Has this been part of why you watch me as much as I watch you?” His steps are slow, he’s giving you an out. You can say no and give a flimsy excuse like your robe slipped or something. You don’t. You put your hands on his chest and run them up as he did to you, your hands grabbing his curls, their silken texture makes you smile.

“You’d be correct Jake. This dance has gone on long enough. You’re finally in my apartment and I almost died tonight. I also had a long shower as you suggested.” Your plush lips look so inviting and he can’t resist. The kiss is sloppy and his hands are roaming your body, he’d like to rip the gown off of you, but he’s sure you put it on to be admired so he will for a little bit. Jake is much more interested in what’s under it. He bends temporarily and hooks his hands under your knees to lift you up carrying you to your bedroom.

After setting you on the bed gently, Jake slips off his clothes, making a pile on the floor in front of your bed. He’s not one to be embarrassed and is well aware of what he’s working with. His swollen length bobs while he licks his lips. His eyes roam your body as he climbs on the bed, calloused hands start at your ankles and slide up your thick legs. Once he reaches your hips, his hands stay under your nightgown as he pulls it up and over your head. The low groan makes his Adam's apple bob when he sees you weren’t wearing any underwear as you open your legs for him to expose your wetness. You gasp at the cool air and it allows him to capture your lips again, your arms and legs wrapping around him.

He grins into the kiss, lurching his hips forward to have the head of his cock glide across your wet slit. Your hips react and jut forward having the tip enter you, Jake grins on your lips and pulls back but leaves the tip in. “Rather eager aren’t you cariño (sweetheart)?” He takes hold of his length, removing his tip fully and rolls the wrist of his free hand for you to roll over. “I’ll have you from the back first. I want to see that large ass of your bounce.” You roll on your stomach and spread your knees, feeling him lean over and run his hands along your body as he notches at your entrance. His bulbous head is just past your entrance. “Move that ass and push back on my cock. Show me what you can do hermosa.” He leans to kiss along your spine as you use your legs to move your hips back, having your forearms flat on the bed with your elbows as an anchor.

You’re able to get him deeper and feel him stretching you, almost too much, his hips don’t feel flush with yours yet, there must be more. “Jake you’re so thick…. Please move with me.” You coo, looking back at him, your hips moving slowly, your walls are pulling on his shaft, learning his shape. Jake’s hands are roaming your back as praises for working hard for him. He’s aware of his girth and wants to push forward but not yet.

He leans over your back again, making his chest flush with it. His lips are next to your ear, “Muy bien (very good) mi (my) princesa. I’m going to reward you by moving. Be as loud as you want.” A kiss is placed on your shoulder, a last bit of tenderness he shows you before straightening himself up and taking hold of your hips. He draws back, nearly pulling all the way out of you but he thrusts forward, his hips finally flush with yours and the walls of your core expanded to accommodate him as his thrusts increased as did your cries of Jake’s name. You felt yourself pressing into the mattress, at one point face down. Jake was not having it. He wanted you vocal unless your voice had truly given out, which he was sure it hadn’t. His hips came to a full stop and you gasped. “No, no princesa. You won’t go quiet on me yet. Roll.” He gave a light slap to your ass for encouragement for you to move.

You had just sat yourself up back on your elbows and lifted your head when Jake decided that you were moving too slow for him and pulled out of you, the loss had you groan before you yelped with your leg up in the air where it had not been for a long time. He crossed your leg over and succeeded in flipping you over so you were now on your back. Jake’s relentless, his hands are roaming your thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, “Jake....Jake..Fuck…” You keep chanting as he grins before capturing your lips again with his. He has yet to enter you once more and his precum is dripping onto your slit as it rubs your viscous liquids together.

Once he pulls back, he takes in your swollen lips, the heaving of your chest, every curve that he’s tried to feel with his fingers and he knows he hasn’t. This time when he slips back within you, it’s slower and he keeps eye contact with you, one hand on the back of your knee pushing your leg forward to allow him deeper and the other on the back of your neck to pull your face closer to his as he presses his chest against yours. “So much better than I imagined princesa. You’re not getting away from me you know.” He nibbles on your bottom lip as your core tightens around him again, “Good girl, milk me and accept what I’m going to give you.” Your hands grab his shoulders and dig into his skin, scratching him, your hips keep crashing into his as he speeds up a bit, nearly at his climax.

“Give me what you’ve got Jake. I’ll mark you…” Using your teeth, you graze the skin on his neck before biting down and hearing him hiss, giving you a few more strong pumps before spilling inside of you. The heat from his spend has the walls of your cunt close around his throbbing shaft as you scream in your own peak. Jake continues to slowly roll his hips until you both start to come down. Neither of you move, only the sounds of your breaths fill the room. Your body is completely limp and you stare up at Jake who gives you a small kiss to your lips before starting to move back, your arms weakly reach for him and he grins.

“You want more already? You’ll have to give me a few princesa.” Shaking your head, you stick your bottom lip out and give a small pout.

“Don’t leave yet. Stay.” Jake rubs circles on your belly and chuckles.

“You’re even more adorable than I thought. I need to know where your washcloths and towels are. We need to clean up. I’m not leaving.” You inform him that they’re in the small hall closet next to the bathroom to which he goes and gets two washcloths, warming them up along with towels. He wipes you down first and dries you, then takes care of himself before slipping the both of you under the sheets. His hand cups your cheek before running his fingers through your hair and then it dawns on him - you’re not wearing your bonnet. Jake asks where you keep them and you tell him the bottom drawer of your nightstand so he reaches to get one for you and you decide to pinch his rather round ass.

“I think we’re fond of each other’s asses Jake.” You laugh as he slips the red satin onto your head. “I’m surprised you knew that I wore one at night. You’re keeping that close of tabs on me?” An eyebrow raises and he puts his hands up.

“Come on, give me a little credit. I’m not going to say I know everything about caring for black hair properly, but I know bonnets, protective styles, but don’t ask me how to do any of them and oil.” He put up three fingers for the things he did know.

Now it’s your turn to grin. This sly man. “Pfft. You’re full of surprises Jake. We’ll sleep and then you’re helping me oil my hair in the morning before work.” You press his chest lightly and the scoot closer to him to cuddle. His arm wraps around your back, and those fingers of his run down your spine again.

“I’ll help you oil your hair tomorrow if it’s after breakfast and you take a day off of work.” Jake kisses your forehead and closes his eyes.

“Alright. You talked like you knew what to do. I won’t forgive you if you mess up my hair.”

“Hm. If it’s anything like what you did tonight, I get it. I’ll be extra careful princesa. Don’t worry.” You’d drifted off to sleep and Jake watched you before he dozed off as well, looking forward to having his hands on you again. In your hair or anywhere you’d let him.

Keeping an eye out from the apartment across the hall 👀: @soft-persephone @saturn-rings-writes @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @missladym1981 @alltheglitterandtheroar @dameron-grant-spector @soft-girl-musings @agentjackdaniels

[minispidey]

Hey - you said repeaters welcome so here I am 💅

If you’ve watched Scenes from a Marriage, I need ya thots /HC for Levy:

BEST FRIEND.

Jonathan Levy x f!reader.

Warnings: mentions toxic relationship, mentions cheating, does this count as cheating too?, angst, smut, fluff, swearing.

Requested by: @boredzillenial

Author's Note: bestie the gif u send is so MWAH cheeky beefy oscar isaac ass 🤭 if u dont mind, i added in a small story line because u swear this man deserves better. mira fucked him up smh (tbh i have no idea what im writing have mercy on me)

Summary: you're Jonathan Levy's best friend, always been in love with him even after he got married. But then it crumbles down and you proved that you treat him better.

MINORS DNI

My immediate thought is like: oh childhood besties with Jonathan instead of the usual teacher-student relationship. I think it adds more drama, you know?

Imagine being so in love with this man for years, but he's blind. He marries Mira and to add salt to the wound you were his best man, or rather best woman. Holding in tears because you thought to yourself 'Surely, I'd move on.'

You two grow up, still closer and you watched him make a family of his own while you work a decent job and end up drinking at the end of the day. Partners come and go, but none of them made you feel the same way Jonathan did. And Jonathan barely did shit.

You knew it was wrong pining for a married man, but you hoped some day Jonathan sees that Mira treats him like shit. You didn't want to upset him since you're his best friend. The one person who knew everything about him even after setting boundaries since he got married.

Were you surprised when Jonathan calls you over and tells you Mira cheated on him? Of course not. You called up a babysitter for Ava and went to hit up a bar, drowning in his sadness.

"What does she have that keeps you... I don't know... loving her? What's so different that you keep crawling back to her."

He couldn't reply. Jonathan stared at you, remembering all the times you two talked— the ones where he's always ranting about his married life, the struggles and the stress. You always just sat there and listened to him. You never straight out voiced your opinion about Mira.

"What else do you think of her?"

"She's a bitch. I mean seriously, you two have a daughter and she pulls this shit. Anyone— and I mean everyone can treat you better than she does."

You always did speak the truth when you're drunk. So this was different.

"You packed her shit too. If I were you, I would've burned everything she owned. Did I ever tell you of the ex boyfriend I had? Changed his shampoo to hair remover."

"That's a bit extreme."

"Your face is a bit extreme."

You always knew just how to make him laugh, even with childish insults. No words were exchanged between the two of you, Jonathan stared at you, scanning your features. Something about you was different. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he's just barely tipsy.

Next thing he knew, he kissed you. He realized that he loved you more than a best friend normally did. He was in love.

Even if it took your whole lives, you thanked whoever the fuck made him realize he loved you (me).

In the middle of your kissing session, he pulls away only to take off his glasses, even touching the lenses despite wanting to keep it fingerprint-free.

His daughter's asleep, baby sitter's gone. You two stumbled into his house, lips locked. Jonathan wasted no time getting you into his bedroom (well, him and Mira's bedroom) and taking your clothes off.

Not only was this the perfect revenge, this was a perfect moment. Your wildest dreams finally coming true.

Jonathan fucks— no, he makes love. He's slow, making you feel good. He's definitely a giver. He peppers you non-stop with kisses. You leave scratches and marks on his body. The pleasure is too much. You were happy that night.

The next morning, breakfast in bed and a kiss on your forehead. Clearly, he didn't regret anything from last night. Jonathan really realized he loved you and you loved him.

Let's just say that you practically lived in his house at this point. Mira comes home to find Jonathan fucking you on the kitchen counter.

"You slut-!"

"You can't say shit, you cheated on him you fucking cunt!"

You successfully landed a harsh slap across Mira's face before getting pulled away by Jonathan. He carries you back into his bedroom and he cups your face with a smile.

"Did it feel good?"

"Yeah. Been wanting to do that since she broke the mug I gave you if I'm being honest."

Jonathan kicked Mira out, and you two spent the night making love to each other. Jonathan was right— everything Mira hated about him, you loved. You were absolutely better than her.

Their divorced finalized, and Jonathan got full custody of Ava. You moved in and brought life to their dull house.

For your birthday, he bought you a piano... an expensive one at that. He loved hearing you play.

He's the type to pick you small flowers every day and you have an album filled with pressed flowers. Before you go to work, he would slip a sticky note in your bag and you would find it while working and can't help but smile.

You make his lunches. He's always liked your cooking. You were definitely levels up from pathetic dinner tupperware spaghetti.

You even pack Ava's lunch for school, making notes like

Have a good day, sweetie! I love you ❤️

For Jonathan, it's always confessions of love. Even if at this point you two should be married.

Love you for as long as the stars shine ❤️

He can't help but smile like a fool during lunch. Even brags about the food you make.

He was in the middle of a lesson when he realized he wanted to marry you. As soon as class ended, he sprinted to Tiffany & Co. and bought you a diamond ring that suited you.

He was just utterly in love with you. One day, playing your piano, you looked ethereal that he grabbed the ring and got down on one knee. He just loved you too much.

You two spent the rest of your days more and more in love than that day in the bar along with your children. He couldn't ask for anyone better. You were the one for him, no one else.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My You-niverse: Bud Cooper

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Bud Cooper x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Warning: a bit of period typical sexism, reader is pregnant

Series Masterlist

When you kick the blankets off you, your eyes widento see your round belly. Oh shit. Oh fuck. You were pregnant.

Not Marc notices you just sitting there and came back to you with concern, "You okay? Is the baby okay?" He kneels down and gently presses a hand to your stomach, "You okay, princess? You giving mommy some trouble this morning?"

"We're having a girl?" you ask in disbelief.

Not Marc's brows furrow, "Yeah. We found out weeks ago, remember?" he reaches up and places the back of his hand to your forehead, "You're not feeling warm. Do you feel dizzy or anything?"

You shake your head, "No. No, it's-I had a weird dream. I suppose I'm just trying to make sure this isn't another one."

Your supposed husband shakes his head, "It's not, honey. I'm here," he cups your face, love in his eyes, "The baby and I are here. We're real."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah, okay."

He wasn't comforted by your answer so he stands with a grunt, "I'm calling out of work today."

"No, no, love, it's okay. I promise."

"I just want to make sure that nothing happens to you two, okay?"

Not Marc walks over to the phone on the nightstand and dials a number. He asks the phone operator to direct his call to his work, "Hey, Mike. It's Bud Cooper." Bud, so that was his name, "Yeah, the wife isn't feeling too well. I'm staying back just in case anything happens to her or the baby. Yeah...sounds like a plan. Alright. Bye."

He hangs the phone up and looks back at you, "Maybe we should get some food in ya and see if that helps?"

Bud helps you out of bed and guides you down the stairs to the kitchen. He has you sit at the table and looks around the kitchen, "Um...where can I find the pan?"

"Cabinet next to the stove," your answer surprises you. How you already have the knowledge and layout of the kitchen is new.

Bud chuckles to himself, "You know how useless I am in the kitchen. This is the women's domain," he opens the cabinet and grabs the pan. He sets it on the shelf and continues to ask you where everything is.

You eventually get up and grab everything for him, but then he has you sit back down, "Okay, I can cook all this myself. See, I'm not completely helpless."

You hum, not loving Bud's current views on women. Sure, this was the norm of this time period, but that didn't mean it didn't leave a bad taste in your mouth.

While Bud cooked, you decided to grab the newspaper out front, but not after promising him that you'd be careful. When you picked up the newspaper, the year stared back up to you 1955.

"Oh wow."

"Good morning, Y/N!" a woman from across the street waves at you as she kisses her husband on the cheek.

You wave back and proceed to walk back inside the home...your home. As you sit back down, Bud places a plate of breakfast and some juice in front of you. Everything is cooked just how you liked it.

He then sits across the table from you and grabs the newspaper you brought in. He places his glasses on and reads while shoveling eggs into his mouth.

Your stomach jolts and you gasp, making Bud immediately rushing to your side, "What is it? What's wrong?"

You smile up at him, "She kicked."

"She's becoming more active, huh?" he kneels down and presses a hand to his belly again, "Looks like you're up and awake, huh, princess?" she kicks again and Bud laughs, "Yeah, honey, this is your daddy."

He continues to talk to your little girl and you can't help but get emotional at the sight. You and Marc are married, yes, but you didn't talk about kids yet. You were content with or without them, but you weren't sure on Marc's views. Considering how he grew up, you're sure he'd be apprehensive.

If, no, when you get back to him, you'll probably have to discuss this with him. Because you can't help but imagining Marc in Bud's position right now. You see the love in his eyes and you just know that Marc, hell even Steven and Jake, would be good fathers.

"You okay care there, lovebug?"

You wipe your eyes, "Yeah, just really happy."

Bud smiles up at you, "I am too."

__________________________

Marc and Steven never thought that hopping through multiple universes was so exhausting. So far they'd been to three different universes. They had to make sure they were in disguise, not wanting to disrupt anything in each universe. But every version they've seen of you, made them miss you even more.

Doctor Strange, seeing the worry and hopelessness in their eyes comforted them, "We'll get her back. It just...takes time."

Steven, currently fronting, shook his head, "I know she'll be okay. She's strong. I just...if someone travels through so many universes, will it effect them in any way?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest."

___________________________

You've been in this universe for less than a day and you already dread leaving. You didn't think yourself of a motherly type, but every time you looked down at your belly or rubbed it, your heart felt so full.

Despite ensuring Bud that you're fine, your "husband" insisted you shouldn't be working on the nursery. So he rolled up his sleeves and worked on painting the room. A baby pink already adorned two walls. How cliche to make your baby girl's nursery fairytale themed. She was your princess after all.

While Bud works on the other two walls, you put up some pictures and artwork. You take a step back and observe your work. You find yourself smiling and rubbing your belly.

"Everything's turning out great, I'd say!" Bud exclaims, coming up next to you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

You nod and he kisses your head, "Why don't you start up lunch while I finish this up, hm?"

"Sounds good!" you peck his lips and waddle your way to the kitchen, when you enter the threshold, you're suddenly somewhere else.

"Fuck!" you whisper to yourself and you're suddenly tackled to the floor as a rain of bullets fire your way.

"I fucking told you to get down!"

"Marc?" you ask to your..husband?

"Pope! Let's go!" another man runs into the room, helping your husband's doppleganger to his feet and then you.

"More hostiles are headed this way. This mission is fucked."

'Pope' nodded and then turned to you, "Rosa, you good?"

You gulp and nodded, "Y-Yeah. I'm good." you looked down noticed the tactical gear you're donning. A knife strapped to your thigh and a gun to your other.

Who were you in this universe?

[melodymakesart]

Maybe if I wasn’t meant to draw Oscar Isaac 2,435 times then maybe he shouldn’t have such an interesting face. Hm? Anyone ever think of that?

Anyway, here’s a pre-sketch of Basil in a project I’m working on hehe.

[guruan]

Do you have any "art hack" for drawing Oscar Isaac? He's surprisingly complicated to draw man and you draw him just exactly how he looks IRL

Aaah, it's hard to point only one "art hack" since his face it's a combination of his features...

But I'll try to simplify it so let's start:

Before starting anything, grab all the reference you can!! Every angle you can find: side profiles, 3/4, front, etc.

If something goes wrong in your process, you can always check your references and try to understand what's off (plus- you start to train your eye for Oscar likeness ✨)

So, what you need to understand is: his eyes, nose, and headshape (and maybe the eyebrows?)

What matters about his eyes is his eyelid! How your draw eyes or your style in general doesn't matter that much as long as you keep the heavy eyelid.

Note that at the end of it, he has a little curve upwards (but depending on your style, doesn't matter if you don't want to keep it)

His nose in side profile has a little bounce (idk how to call it? 😂) so you have the first curve, and your stop where the tip of his nose starts

The tip of his nose you can shape it as a round triangle in side profile, and as a round diamond when it's frontal angle (also, a tiny little mark in the middle of his nose in that angle)

Depending on your character (or like- how old was Oscar at that point?) you can add small wringles at the sides of his nose. You can also use them if he's wrinkling his nose or making a particular expresion.

I'm not quite sure how to describe his headshape... like an octagon that was cut in half? haha

The edges that connect the centre (his chin) together, can look longer depending on the angle of the face.

Also! Details, but also he has prominent cheekbones and his earlobes shape is more noticeable in a frontview.

You don't need to add the cheekbones to make you drawing to look enough like him, but it's a nice touch

I'm pretty simple with my eyebrows, but what's important it's the general shape. For him I use like a scalene triangle shape? but softer

He has thick eyebrows! so try to keep that in mind

So add those things and there you go! An Oscar Isaac 😂

Don't feel discouraged if it doesn't look enough like him when you try, even I move things around until I get it (eternally affected by my anime style and keep drawing faces too long for men 😂🤣)

Hope this helps ❤

[queerponcho]

My library | and some things about me aswell hehe:

It's still quite small but I'm working on some things and figuring out Tumblr (and how it works for a creator) as I go. If you've got any tips, wanna send a request ooor maybe just want to talk obsessively about your favourite character please dm me:D

I am 21 and a latina woman living in Switzerland

I am queer. My perferences in gender and so on change constantly so I don't see a need for a more specific lable.

I've got adhd and have been diagnosed since I was nine years old

Been obsessed with all of the Oscar Isaac characters since I saw him in Moonknight.

Love Starwars and have a huge crush on Cassian Andor and wanna write some works for him aswell, I've just decided lol. If you've got any requests for him I'd love to hear em.

Was a huge Harry Potter fan...I still love the universe and it's characters BUT I do not stand with JK or any of her Transphobia.

I stand with Translives, Blacklives, and Peace

I have been dabbling in writing for about a year but I posted my first work in January.

My Library

fluff*| smut+ |

Moonknight!System

Transfixed | Series | ongoing : * (and eventually +)

Part One | Part Two | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Summary: You're a woman who as been visiting the same library for all your life. One day a handsome new face comes walking in. That's the moment when the ball starts rolling and your entire life changes. Will you accept the new challanges coming your way...?

Steven Grrant

Vanilla and lemon | drabble: +

Summary: You’re a vampire and are, once again, visiting the museum. But this time you forgot your blood-packs and cant seem to be able to leave. What’ll you do? Starve?…or help yourself to a bite of your favourite tour-guide…

more coming soon and I hope you stick around to see it<3

[mauvecherie-writes]

Tears On My Pillow.

Pairing: Oscar Isaac x Black F!Reader

Summary: So frustrated with your situation, you can’t help but cry … however, it just turns Oscar on even more.

Warning: MINORS DNI, NSFW, explicit smut, PWP, crying during sex, teasing, usage of ‘Daddy’.

WC: 0.6K

Kinktober Day 3: Crying.

As if the teasing that he had put you through during the dinner wasn’t enough, Oscar decided that he would continue with the game when you had made it to be bedroom. The light touches and licks until you were withering with anticipation simply wasn’t enough for him.

“Please, please, please, baby, I can’t!” You desperately whispered as he licked at your core until your orgasm neared its peak. His rugged beard scratched the flesh of your thighs leaving an uncomfortable burn that you could not escape as his body pressed you down into the bed.

His shoulders pushed your legs apart as his hands parted your slits as if to get his tongue any deeper into you. One of your hands ran through his salt and pepper locks and gripped at the roots and your other pulled at the sheets as your body twisted away from his ruthless tongue.

Your throat hurt from the screaming and tears began to line with tears from the overwhelming pleasure brewing in the pit of your stomach. He was giving you everything that he got but still not enough, just pulling you in so much to the edge but never pushing you off. You pleaded and begged but it seemed like Oscar was determined to ruin you.

Your breathing got heavier as your screams got louder, your climax just within reach but Oscar quickly pulled his mouth away from your engorged clit.

“Fuck you!” You cursed at him as you began to pound your soft fists at his body as the tears you had been keeping at bay began to fall from the agonising frustration. His hearty chuckle vibrated through your core. Giving you one more lick, he kissed all the way up your body until he captured your lips.

The lack of undress on his part was annoying as you wanted to feel his bare chest on yours but lost in the pleasure of his lips on yours, it was an annoyance you were willing to let go. His hand slipped in between your bodies and swiftly led himself into your cunt.

He gave you no time to breathe as he pistoned his hips, hammering at your spot and bursting your bubble. He grabbed the back of your neck and leaned his forehead against yours as he took in your every facial expression. You could barely breathe and you were trying to push him away as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Fffuuu —.” You gasped. Oscar growled, throbbing inside of you at the sight of your tears. There was just something about seeing you cry as he fucked you that turned him and motivated him to get more out of you.

Your body convulsed in his arms as you drenched him with your juices. His balls and thighs were covered in your slick, the wet sound echoing in the room as he thrusted in and out of you. He got onto his knees and held onto your waist as his eyes never left your face.

Through the haze of your tears you saw his eyes downcast at you, his teeth biting on his bottom lip as he focused on you. Your breath was hitched in your throat as body began to quake once more. Since allowing you to cum, he wasn’t stopping until you were utterly spent.

“You win! Fuck! Daddy okay okay, I get it!” You cried, screaming as your back arched off the bed. Oscar dropped above you, taking your brownie coloured nipple into his mouth, grazing it with it with teeth more before pulling away to lick away your tears.

“Cry some more for me baby, maybe then I’ll stop.” He mumbled against your tear stained cheeks.

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