𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒. 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋

She’s so pretty…. help

One year ago today, The Goldfish (Moon Knight) gave me Problems (brainrot).

Honorable Man (Kento Nanami x Intern!F!Reader)

Words: 4k

Minors DNI

Tw: smut little plot, age gap implied (20s and late 30s), power imbalance (superior and intern/college student), unprotected sex with creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dom!nanami, dumbification, rough, work place sex, no curses au, squirting, manhandling, size kink a little, degradation and praise, 'sir', crying, cum ♡, this is just horny and ooc ngl babes

"Nanami, can you take the new intern under your wing?"

Those damn words. His boss didn't even give him a choice and somehow it was always Nanami who got stuck with college boys that thought they knew how the world works. Only that you weren't a boy and that you were actually resourceful; how was that somehow worse? Now he was stuck with you, stuck with your cute face.

The whole office stopped for a moment when you walked in and introduced yourself. You were just captivating, desirable. Nanami hated it. Hated how the others looked at you like you were a meal to try but he caught himself checking out the composition of your body too. His boss was about to snatch you, suddenly seeming to have the time to work in the intern but Nanami had some care left. He was pretty sure he was the only honorable man in this building anyway.

"You are the intern?" He got to you first.

"Y-yes?" You were nervous, it was all over you and Nanami found it endearing. He hated this job, you were excited for it. How ironic.

"I am Nanami, I will be responsible for you. What was your name?"

"(Y/N)! I am so sorry," you bowed. "It is nice to meet you, sir."

That was how it started. How it's going? Not good. You and Nanami stayed late, a problem with the numbers and while he had told you to go home you wouldn't abandon him on this.

"Two minds work faster," you reasoned. "You'll be here the whole night… If we work together it will only be a few hours. I have no one waiting at home. Your wife probably wants you back?" 

"No wife," he sighed. 

You got a lot more comfortable with everyone else gone and Nanami realized as professional as you seemed, you had another side to you. One that took off your shoes and kneeled on the office chair, bent forward to look at his screen. And Nanami tried to not notice but the way your skirt fell now, exposing the back of your plush thighs, how your back curved and your arms squeezed your breasts. He realized that he was not as honorable as he thought. His cock was surely disagreeing, feeling trapped against his dress pants.

"There," you pointed at the screen. "Let me," you got up quickly and moved before him, typing and Nanami wished he could pay attention to the damn screen.

He could just grab your hips now and you'd be sitting on his lap. You practically stood between his legs, bent forward. You had freed your hair earlier from a tight ponytail and it was now gracefully cascading over your shoulder. Your ass, it was begging to be caressed, shy underneath your skirt.

"Why is it not working?" You frowned and looked back at him and Nanami could finally pay attention to the problem at hand again. He skimmed your typed command.

"Here," his hands brushed against yours as he reached for the keys and he felt electrified. "Rookie mistake," he changed something and the screen turned green now. You solved the error.

"Nice!" You exclaimed and straightened up, smiling at him. "Teamwork makes the dream work?"

"Do not expect praise from me. You should know that by now," he sighed but regretted saying it when your lips pushed into a pout and your brows furrowed. You were downright adorable and all Nanami could think of was fucking that pout from your face.

"But I've been so good," you said, jokingly. You managed to make it worse for him still. A little tease.

"Let's pack up and go home," he got up and loosened his tie, then packed up his stuff and you got in the elevator. "Do you take the subway?"

"I do. You mind walking together?" You smiled softly.

"Of course not. It's late, best I will walk you home if you don't mind?"

"You don't have to," you said gratefully. 

"But I will."

"It's appreciated, Nanami-san."

And of course it started to pour. Your white blouse did not hold up for long and your black bra was showing quickly. "Here," he took off his suit jacket and handed it to you. You looked up and your eyes met, gluing together for the very first time. Strands of soaked hair framed your wet face, your lips were plump and so inviting. The blush on your cheeks made Nanami feel lightheaded.

"Thank you. With the rain… are you sure you'd not rather go home?" You smiled so politely not even realizing Nanami did it for his own sanity and put it on, turning back to the screen. "My train is there in 5 minutes."

"Good," he sighed. "I said I'll walk you." Nanami saw the group of boys way before you did. He still did not think you'd react with a flinch that made you step back instinctively and crash into him. His hand moved to your shoulder and he steadied you. "Careful."

"Sorry," you moved back, away from his body. "They are in one of my classes… not up for a conversation right now."

"Why?"

"You know… boys," you said with disgust.

He let out a chuckle. Yeah, you needed a man, didn't you?

"(Y/N)?"

"Wonderful," you breathed quietly. "Hi."

"Haven't seen you on campus in a while?"

"I'm doing my internship right now actually," you pointed at Nanami.

"But you're coming to our party this Friday, right?"

You swallowed it down best you could but there was still annoyance in your tone, "probably; when everyone else goes, I'll come."

"Cool! See you then." They got on the train that arrived right then.

You turned to Nanami with shocked eyes, "that was the most civil conversation I had with them. Can I bring you to class next time? I think your calm thing might influence them?"

He shook his head and chuckled, "not a chance. College days are not something I want to relive."

"What college did you attend?"

He hated that question. "A private one."

"Oh," you smiled. "Like a rich kid?"

He chuckled at that.

The train finally arrived and you sat down next to each other. You looked so adorable in his jacket, Nanami was struggling to not stare at you.

"Do you like your job?" You asked with care, your voice sounding more timid.

"It pays good money."

"That's not what I asked," you peered at him and he met your gaze.

"Indeed," he realized. He was the one who never not be direct so why was he shying away from saying he hated it, loathed it with every fiber of his body. Kento wasn't a flirt but the opportunity was too good to not take. "Well, it is almost bearable now that you are there." He watched how your cheeks flushed with something other than the cold.

"That was praise," you grinned.

"The most you will get from me," he said. Unless you'd be a really good girl for him, then he might just have to give you more. Nanami knew that once he was home his mind would be consumed by that thought. How your cute eyes would be wide with shock and lust as he drives his cock into your hole, how your cute little body would submit to him fully, utterly, not like there was another option with the difference in size and how he'd just fuck you dumb, make a little stupid airhead out of you.

"You okay?" You reached for him and your soft touch on his knee sent jolts of energy through his body. "You're getting kinda pale."

Yeah, surely. His blood was rushing to another place with the thoughts he was having. "Yeah," he cleared his throat. "All good."

And then, just one thing after another happened, like the universe wanted his balls to burst. The weather got so bad, winds and thunders that you barely made it to your small apartment, absolutely drenched.

"Nanami, please just stay the night. Be reasonable," you said. "You won't make it home in this. We caught the last train that was actually getting through."

He knew you were right but his patience, his manners were hanging on by a thread. The way water dropped from your hair onto your collarbones had him nearly shaking. You were a dream, a fever dream.

"You are right. I apologize for the inconvenience," Nanami sighed.

"You're no bother," you smiled and unlocked the door. You got into your apartment and you got him a towel. 

"I quickly take a shower; do you want to shower as well?" You asked. 

Nanami knew it wasn't what you meant, but he still swallowed way too noticeably as his mind conjured lewd images.

"I mean– after I'm done… unless," your smile turned mischievously for a split second and you laughed. You did not wait for his answer, as it was just a joke and disappeared into the bathroom.

Nanami knew you were joking. He knew you well enough by now to know you wouldn't pass up a little comment like that. But what if? Maybe it wasn't a joke. Maybe he did not read into it? The subtle teasing and how he thought often enough that your naivety was all but a mask? But he wasn't thinking straight. He knew that for sure. Kento was digging his fingers into his palms, leaning back on the couch. If he'd move he'd cave. God, you were a burn. His gaze slowly shifted to the bathroom door and his breath got stuck. The door was wide open.

You weren't dumb. An invitation.

Nanami thought he was being subtle, but sometimes you caught him and all his dirty thoughts were visible in the way his face twisted. His stupid beautiful face. You just weren't immune to him. His tall and broad frame, rock hard muscles; he could hold you down and render you helpless so perfectly. The aura of authority he exuded made you feel high, made you feel like dropping to your knees. You knew it could get the both of you in so much trouble. You knew he had power over you in ways that were toxic at best and morally wrong most days but that turned you on so much. It made you pool your panties how every man in that office wanted to fuck you, and none of them were trying to hide it, except Nanami who was desperately trying to. He actually saw you as someone other than a cute college girl, you'd say he even respected you somewhat and still he couldn't stop himself and his desires to fuck the little intern girl. Your cunt twitched whenever you caught that gleam in his warm gaze when he looked over to your desk. 

You wanted him so bad yet your heart still ran miles when you felt him slip into the shower, one of his big hands sliding on your hip while he other wrapped around your throat.

"You got the hint," you whispered, mind turning to pudding immediately.

He chuckled sharply, "so you truly are a slut, hmm."

He pressed you to himself, your back to his chest as your ass squeezed his hard cock. You hummed, head spinning. Finally.

Nanami placed soft kisses along the arch of your neck. "All those little things. Bending over, batting your lashes at me and getting just a bit too close. I thought you were just too innocent to know what you were doing to me," he groped at your ass. He finally had you and his mind was already so intoxicated he feared there was absolutely no stopping now. The way your body responded to his touch, you were his and ready for the taking. "You little tease." He slapped your ass and you yelped. "You need a man to fuck you, hm?"

"Nanami," you breathed softly, nodding. "Please."

His hand traveled from your neck to your face and he pressed his middle and ring finger to your lips. You parted them and sucked the long fingers in, swirling your tongue around his digits with a hum.

"Don't forget your manners now," he chuckled, pulling his fingers back and you released them with a pop.

You arched your back, your ass grinding from side to side with his impressive cock pressed into your flesh. He let out a shaky breath and hum, hands on your hips holding them steady. "I want you so bad, Nanami-san," you cooed. "Please, fuck me. Please."

He slapped your ass again and you yelped then he spun you around, hand on your throat. Your lust filled eyes met and you looked at each other with raw hunger. "You sure that little college pussy can handle me?"

You reach for his length and pumped it slowly in your fist. You nodded enthusiastically, licking your lips in anticipation but it only earned a slap across the face from him. You moaned.

"I don't like having to wait for answers, little whore."

Your voice was quiet and shaky, the hand on your throat and his burning gaze did not make it easy to form words. You were so turned on by his roughness which you knew was all but frustration building up over months. "Use my pussy however you want, Nanami-san."

"Careful what you wish for, darling," he grinned before finally pressing a hard kiss to your lips. Your lips moved with so much passion and feral lust. His hands roamed all over you, pinching your nipples and kneading your tits. Your own hands explored his body, his muscles and the faint scars littered across his body.

You moaned when you felt his hand on your core, dipping into the horny wetness. He rubbed your clit roughly.

You whimpered, "please… please." Your mind was already blanking.

"Shh, don't worry, honey," he grabbed you and pulled you out of the shower. There was no time to get to your bed so he pushed you on the floor face first with your ass up high and when you felt his hot tip on your slick clit you saw stars.

"I can't wait a moment longer, sweetheart. Good that you're already soaking, hmm?"

He pushed into you with care, stretching you out with his girth slowly and steady. Your moans were sweet like candy as he invaded your body, pushing deeper and deeper but taking his time. There was no time for foreplay, Nanami felt like his balls were going to burst. He needed to have you right now.

"Shit," he grunted. "Look how well you take me."

You were a moaning mess, incoherent rambles dragging over your lips as the feeling took over you completely. It was painful but just so hot. Maybe it was simply the circumstances, he was your superior, or his cock really was just made for you.

"Thank you, thank you," you gasped, digging your nails into the small bristles of the carpet. It was pure bliss, his cock stretched your walls and sat so deeply and snug. You knew the pain would not go away, he could only fuck it better. "Move," you whispered shakily, feeling so damn full it was hard to breathe. "Please, sir."

"As you wish, darling," he hummed and curled his hips back only to thrust back into you, forcing his thick length all the way in. "So tight," he said over your cry.

You whined like a poor puppy, desperately clawing for something to hold onto as you were face to face with gleeful oblivion. Your knees were burning as he rocked your entire body back and forth. Again and again. His balls clashed against your clit in a rhythmic bounce as the sound of skin colliding hard filled the air alongside your pathetic sounds.

You tried to get words out, tell him you were close, tell him how good this felt but you could only moan pathetically.

And your orgasm, it was there all of a sudden and completely overwhelming you. You were trapped in the kind of ecstasy that made your mind blank entirely, made you lose all control of your body. 

"You squirted," he chuckled. You felt it now as you got your breath back, the wetness that ran down your thighs. Oh god. "Think you can do it again? Hmm?" Nanami reached around you and started to rub your clit.

You squealed, screamed and your body shook again, another orgasm tearing through you with clear liquid spilling past his thick shaft. "Nanami!" You panted. "Nanami!! Fuck, fuck, t-too much. T-to m-much--please."

"Your pussy is so swollen it only got tighter," he grunted but he ignored you and his pounding never ceased and only became sloppier. "Again," he growled, ordered. And you had no choice but to obey. This time he pulled out of you cumming on your cunt while you squirted yet again, fountains leaking from your hole. Your entire body was jerking from the orgasm he fucked out of you.

Nanami picked you up and carried you to your bed. You thought you could catch your breath for a moment but cried out when he slid back into you with absolutely no resistance from your weeping hole. You met his eyes, seeing nothing but dark lust. He held your hips and you clawed at his fingers.

"Nanami, t-too much. P-please, C-can't m-more," you mewled, body winding. He began to plow into you, deep and slow. "Fuck!" You whimpered and tears shot into your eyes.

"One more," he panted. "I know you can give me one more, sweetheart." He kissed your face, kissed your tears away. "You are a big girl, aren't you? So don't cry."

You nodded, leaving scratches down his back before settling in his hair. He grunted into the kiss you shared when you tugged harshly. Both of you panted heavily.

You let out a little whine, the only signal you could give him that you were almost tipping over again. 

"I know, I know," he sighed and lifted himself to look at you. Your eyes were crossed, tongue lolled out of your mouth. "So beautiful."

You smiled for a second before your moans and whimpers got louder. Your whole body convulsed and Nanami almost lost it at how your pussy clenched around him. He pulled out just in time, his hot seed splashed onto your stomach.

You both caught your breath for a second then he kissed you sloppily, picking you up and getting you cleaned. 

He wasn't that bad. Maybe not as honorable as he thought but he was still half decent. He tugged you in, showering you with the sweetest praise he could muster up. He said if you'd be a really good girl he would.

》》》》

"We'll be late for work," Nanami grinned, eyes fixed on your face that was twisted with pleasure. You looked so damn beautiful like this, bouncing on his cock, his hands being the only thing holding you upright as your palms were glued together

You didn't reply. "I said we'll be late for work. You hurry up. Fuck yourself on my cock, make yourself cum."

You only babbled incoherently, your bouncing became harder, your head rolled back. You were about to fall apart.

"Your pleasure comes first, doesn't it? Don't you deserve to come? Look at me."

You mewled, a loud moan dragged over your parted lips as you force your eyes open to meet his gaze. Your body jerked. You were so close. "You're so beautiful," you breathed, your fingers lacing together. "Y-your hands are so big," you smiled as you looked at your hand in his.

Nanami laughed condescendingly and you whimpered. That tone drove you crazy. You wanted him to tell you how useless and dumb you were in that tone. "Nanami–"

"So dumb on my cock, aren't you?" He grunted. "Who's my stupid slut–"

"I am!" You gasped with elation. "I am!"

"That's right," he could feel you clench around him and your eagerness made his cock throb. "I think I'm gonna cum inside of you–" your nails now dug into his palms and your back curved. "Maybe you're less stupid with my seeds in your tummy. What do you think?"

"P-pl-please! Am so dumb… so so– dumb whore. Need cum," you strangled for air as the fire in your stomach became unbearable.

"Yes," Nanami moaned and his legs jerked slightly. You milked him, his hot cum spilling deep inside of you, making you feel so full. Your body shook violently as your orgasm rippled through you. He made you feel so good. You collapsed on his sweaty chest, heaving and whimpering. "Nanami-san," you whispered. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arms around you, "such a good girl." He could feel your smile but he wasn't done just yet. Nanami flicked you on your back and pushed your legs up until your ass was in the air. "We don't want to waste a drop," he slipped underwear onto your legs, and dressed you in them. The absolute shock in your eyes; Nanami wanted to fuck you for another round but then you'd never show up to work.

"Get dressed now, darling."

》》》》

"Be good," he growled and pushed the left leg up on the counter. "I won't repeat it."

"But what if someone–" who were you kidding, you were already throbbing for his cock.

"You're going to that party, aren't you?" He rubbed his cock up and down between your pussy lips. He knew immediately when you showed up. Your outfit was still professional but could easily be transformed to something appropriate for a party.

"Y-yes," you met his eyes in the mirror. "Nanami–"

"Then I gotta make sure those boys stay away from you, hm?"

You smiled. "Does your cum in me repel boys?"

He grinned back, pushing into you painfully slowly. Your head falls forward, hair spilling all around. 

"Naturally," he hissed. "Baby, you gotta keep quiet, yeah? Can you do that for me?"

You nodded.  "I know. Will do. Will be good."

"We gotta make this quick, darling." His hips snapped, settling into a relentless pace. You covered your mouth, biting your own fingers as you tried your hardest to stay quiet. 

Nanami could lose himself in your sweet pussy but as he said, this needed to be quick. He reached around and started to circle your puffy clit. Your eyes met in the mirror again as he watched yours roll back. You both came at the same time.

Nanami pulled out slowly, making sure that not a single drop made it out of your sore cunt. Then helped you get dressed again. You fixed his tie up in return.

His index fingers moved to your chin tilting it up, "if you need to get out of there then call me. I'll pick you up. And be safe… don't drink too much."

Your stomach twisted and you nodded.

Steven Grant: Random Horny Thot #1

NSFW

Steven gets hard just thinking about you. Doesn’t matter what’s going on, he could be at work at the gift shop and his mind will wander.

Sometimes he’s just stood there, looking out the window, daydreaming about you, thinking about kissing you, and he’s slowly growing more and more erect.

He’s had to sneak away to the utility closet to take care of himself, or jerk off into the toilet at least once or twice.

You find out about this through Jake one night, he chuckles and tells you about Steven’s “embarrassing” moments at the gift shop. So you leave Steven with a little photo in his lunch box the next day to give him something to help him during those tough times.

And oh he uses it.

The man is anything but quiet as he strokes himself, spit slick cock caged inside his thick fingers. He’s bucking his hips forward, biting his lip to near bleeding while trying to keep himself from gasping and moaning in the stall.

He’s a blushy mess when he gets home and sees you, but only until he’s got you pinned underneath him.

——

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Morpheus Tarot Card

tender

Poe Dameron x f!reader

Summary: You're miserable when you wake up overwhelmed by the ache of period pains, but Poe does his best to make you feel better—in more ways than one.

Word Count: 1.7k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, unprotected p in v, creampie, PERIOD SEX, fingering, BLOOD, fluff, soft Poe, filth

A/N: This is for @pumpkinpoes and the nonnie that sent in an additional request for it as well 💖. The introduction starts off with fluff, and then it's divided off where it dissolves into something far...filthier.

You wake to the feeling of a sharp stab of pain clawing its way through your abdomen, and a small whimper falls from your lips as you clutch the comforter closer to your chest. Poe stirs at the feeling of you tugging at the blankets, your sounds of discomfort pulling him from the edges of sleep, and he opens his eyes to find you curled into a miserable ball beside him. He scoots across the mattress, closing the gap between your bodies and resting a hand against the side of your face.

“Hey,” he murmurs gently, brushing his thumb over the curve of your jaw. “You okay?”

“No,” you whine, pressing your hand firmly against your stomach in a feeble attempt to stifle the agonizing throb.

“Is it…” he trails off.

“Yeah,” you breathe out between clenched teeth. 

He nods, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed. Your consciousness floating somewhere between your desire to go back to sleep and the bright bursts of pain preventing you from doing so, you only vaguely register the shuffling noises coming from across the room. 

Poe returns a few moments later, urging you to roll onto your back. You glance at him, bewildered and annoyed at the request, until you notice the hot-water bottle he’s cradling in his hands. Once you adjust yourself, he places it over your stomach, and your eyes fall shut as the heat begins to soothe the pain’s sharp, biting edge into a dull ache. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out.

He walks off again, making his way back over with a mug. He sets it down on the small bedside table, and as you eye the steam rising from the tea, a pleasant floral scent wafts toward you. 

“Try drinking that when it cools down. It helps with inflammation.”

You offer him a grateful smile, wincing slightly as an insistent cramp overshadows the pleasant warmth on your abdomen. “Should I call you Dr. Dameron now, or what?”

Poe scratches the back of his head, the corner of his mouth quirking upward as he bites his lower lip and glances down at his feet. “My dad used to make that for my mom when I was younger.”

Your chest clenches, though this time it’s an ache in your heart at Poe’s mention of Shara. Lifting up your arms, you beckon him to climb back into bed with you, though you know all too well that he has a busy day ahead of him. He obliges anyway, slipping under the covers beside you, resting one arm over your chest and burrowing his face against the dip between your shoulder and neck.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it to today’s flight drills,” you lament, feeling weary at the mere thought of sitting in the cockpit of your X-wing and trying to focus on flying in between the nauseating waves of pain.

Poe’s hot breath tickles the soft, delicate skin of your neck as he chuckles, “Is this your way of getting out of that race you challenged me to last week? People are betting on us, you know.”

You turn your head sideways, coming nose to nose with him. 

“What’s the point in betting if I’m going to win anyway?” you smirk, though it ends up being a grimace as you twist your body at the feeling of another cramp coming on.

“We’ll see about that.”

Poe’s brown eyes sparkle with mirth, and he gently presses his mouth to yours, hand coming up to cup the side of your face as he distracts you from your discomfort with the plush feeling of his lips. He kisses you tenderly, his curls brushing against your face, fingers trailing over your collarbone, and your veins begin to ooze with warm, syrupy contentment. 

And while Poe offers to call off his own day entirely, you shoo him out the door as you take a sip from the mug of tea before collapsing back against the pillows.

--

You spend the day wrapped up in blankets, going so far as to take a hot shower before crawling back into your cocoon as you oscillate between bouts of nearly unbearable pain and few and far between moments of relief. When Poe finally makes his way home later, he doesn’t hesitate to join you back in bed after stripping off his flight suit and washing off the day’s grime.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he lays down on his side facing you, tilting your chin upward slightly and leaning in for a kiss.

“Like a Wookiee is trying to claw its way out of me,” you grumble.

“Okay, well I have an idea.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious as to what else Dr. Dameron could possibly have up his sleeve. “Do tell.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I’m willing to try anything at this point, Poe.”

“Roll over,” he instructs, though he doesn’t move to grab another hot-water bottle this time.

You shift onto your back, letting your head fall to the side on the pillow as you glance over at him curiously. Head propped up with one hand, he holds your gaze as he reaches out with the other, laying it atop your abdomen. His fingers begin to slip inside the waistband of your underwear, and your face heats up.

“Poe, what are you—“

“Trust me, please.”

“But I’m blee—“

“Let me do this,” he breathes out.

Your mouth snaps shut as his fingers trail over your folds, slick with blood. A wave of arousal courses through you as he slowly drags a digit through your slit, which you’re nearly ashamed to acknowledge. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper, heart pounding in your chest. 

“Does it feel good?” Poe asks calmly, pushing a finger into your entrance.

“Yes,” you breathe out, eyes snapping shut.

“Look at me.”

You tentatively open your eyes, and your breath hitches in your throat as you take notice of Poe’s heated gaze, his lust-blown pupils, the way his lips are slightly parted.

“It feels so good,” you whimper as he slides another finger into your wet cunt, your back arching up off of the mattress slightly.

“You’re allowed to enjoy this, baby,” he murmurs. “Relax.”

And so you do. 

You let yourself go boneless under Poe’s touch, legs spreading further apart as he shifts closer, leaning over top of you as he plunges a third finger inside of you. 

As Poe’s groin brushes against your hip, you can feel just how much he’s enjoying this, too. His hard shaft strains at the front of his boxers, and when you reach down to grasp it, he rocks into your touch, groaning. 

“Can I…” he trails off, panting.

“Please,” you nearly beg, fisting the collar of his shirt and pulling him on top of you entirely of you as you seek out his mouth in a desperate kiss. 

You shimmy out of your underwear, body thrumming with anticipation, and Poe reaches out toward the other side of the mattress, hand flopping around until he finds what he tossed there before getting back into bed with you: a towel.

Lifting your hips, Poe swiftly slides the material underneath of you before dipping back down to claim your mouth with his own again. He nips at your bottom lip as he notches the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Poe.”

He pauses. “Yes?”

Tone laced with uncertainty, you fumble to find the right words. “It’ll be…messy.”

He kisses you again, lips slotting against yours insistently, tongue darting its way past the seam of your mouth. You’re breathless once he stops, and his warmth breath dances over your wet, swollen lips.

“I want it to be messy.”

At that, he begins to sink his throbbing cock into your fluttering entrance. You both moan in unison at the ease with which his thick shaft penetrates your hole, your channel greedily sucking him in, slick with blood and arousal.

“Poe,” you whine, fingers digging into his back. “It feels—“

“I know,” he chokes out, forehead falling against yours, thumb stroking your collarbone.

“So fucking—“

“So fucking wet.” His voice is rough and wrecked.

You writhe underneath of him as Poe begins to work his cock in and out of you, the slick, damp sounds from each plunge into your cunt magnified by the additional fluids pouring out of you. Though he tries to maintain a rhythm as he repeatedly splits you open, you’re both too lost in way your nerves are on fire, dizzy with pleasure and need. 

The ache between your thighs drives a blazing path up your spine as you rock into Poe’s thrusts, and sweat begins to trickle down the side of your neck. His hands wander, pushing up your shirt to reveal your swollen breasts. A breathy sigh tumbles from your lips as he begins to fondle them, and you brazenly moan as he flicks his thumbs over your tender nipples.

Poe’s hot, wet mouth quickly replaces his hands, and your cunt throbs around his cock as he goes back and forth between your breasts, eagerly sucking at them. 

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, fingers tangling in his hair as you hold him there, urging him not to stop. 

He moans, teeth scraping over one of your nipples, hips stuttering as he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace. At the feeling of your pleasure nearing its peak, you reach between your bodies, but Poe beats you to it, fingers slick with blood and arousal as he begins to play with your clit.

Your muscles tighten in anticipation, body overloaded with the pleasure rippling through it, and your vision goes white when you climax finally punches through you. Limbs trembling, you gasp as Poe’s cock continues to piston in and out of your cunt while you soak his cock with your release. He cups the back of your head, kissing you hard as he slams inside of you to the hilt, moaning into your mouth as he empties himself deep within you.

Once you’ve milked every last drop of his seed, Poe carefully removes his softened cock from your channel. You both stare at one another, breathing hard, and as you feel his cum start to seep from your entrance, you realize what a fucking wet, sticky mess you’ve both made.

But before you can attempt to apologize or anything of the sort, still worried that perhaps this was a little too filthy for him, Poe cuts you off with an impish grin—

“Please tell me why we haven’t done that before."

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» POE DAMERON MASTERLIST » OSCAR ISAAC MASTERLIST

Blorbo thought of the day #5

Repetition: (Marc Spector x reader)

A/n: a little fluffy blurb 🥰 Starts with angst but Marc provides comfort and it’s lovely because he is lovely.

Warnings: (Reader has some abandonment / self-esteem issues, canon typical allusions to Marc’s past, implied off-camera sexy times) Not proofed!

GIF by @anhandfulgirl18

“You a’right?” Marc asks you in his gruff morning voice as your sigh billows dolefully against the bare expanse of his chest. The room is golden hued with sunlight, bright and easy, and your mood as you wake certainly does not match it.

“Bad dream,” you explain curtly, deepening the niggle in your brow. “Just thinking.”

Marc crushes his chin to his chest in an attempt to get a better look at you. Smooths a warm, broad hand down your bare back, the gnarled patterned sheets pushed down around your middles. “What dream? What are you thinking?”

You stiffen, snapping out of your gloomy mood a little as you realise that you’ve been awake for a mere 30 seconds, and yet you have already managed to make his voice sound like that. Despondent. Taut with concern.

Your head still resting on his chest, his heartbeat thudding steadily beneath the shell of your ear, you let your fingers dance lightly over his pec, trailing in slow, repeating circles, round and round. “It’s just….” The words feel too big to come out, like there’s a traffic jam in your throat when you try to say it out loud.

It’s stupid. You know it is.

“What?” Marc encourages, whisper soft, his voice and his hands as gentle as the slip of fresh golden sun into the room.

You push yourself up. Lie on your front next to him, propping your chin on your fisting hands. Despite the tension roping through you, looking at Marc instantly makes you smile, even if the gesture itself is a subdued, somber sort of thing.

You reach up and ruffle his thick, dark strands with the rake of your fingers, fondly combing the tendrils back from his forehead, and he hums for you, low and soft.

God. This man. He always looks especially beautiful on a morning. The mussed, chaotic curls. The shadow of stubble darkening his jaw. The way he fans his long lashes, attempting to blink away the bright morning, always a complete snuggle fiend and wanting to lay in the dark with you just a little longer. The glisten of his Magen David pooled in the hollow of his throat, bobbing there as he swallows. His skin bare and warm and his natural scent not yet polluted by his morning shower.

You don’t think you could ever tire of this sight.

“It’s nothing. Not really. It’s just… Every now and again I get this… horrible gnawing feeling. Like one day you’ll… I dunno. Get bored of me?”

That wakes him up, and for the second time this morning you feel guilt writhe your belly. Marc, meanwhile, looks at you with a pure concern. Gaze flitting over you. Examining you as though you’ve been severely wounded - and he’s only now seeing it. “What do you mean?” He moves, the surprise animating him, and he shifts his elbows backwards to prop his torso up. His necklace elongates, settling into place in the valley of his shapely chest, and his mop of curls flopping once again over his forehead. “Honey. How could I ever?”

You play with a little bit of lint on the bed covers, suddenly intent on it. Retreating away from Marc’s intense, searching stare. “You know. You could. Maybe. From the repetition of it.” Your voice cracks like sun-baked earth - as though the golden morning has already dried you out. “You could get bored. Waking-up next to me every day? Hearing me talk about the same stuff all the time? Fucking me, over and over.”

At that comment, Marc’s brows knit and raise in the middle. His tongue fleets along his lower lip, his mouth turning down at the corners. God, those puppy dog eyes of his never get old.

“But you know I love fucking you over and over, shortcake.”

You shake your head softly. Self-conscious around him, and you have no idea why. “Marc.”

With the wet way you say his name, Marc turns immediately on to his side, still propped up on one elbow, his muscles popping as they bear his weight. And, his freed arm just as immediately is reaching for you. Fingers trailing down your back. You look at him and he looks pained. “Did I… Did I do something to make you think that-“

“-No.” Shit. You shouldn’t have said anything about it. Marc gets so in his head about these things. Always blames himself, as though, if you’re insecure, it means that he isn’t doing a good enough job of loving you. In fact, that could not be further from the truth. “No, Marc. I promise. It’s…” You sigh out a long breath. “It’s just how I feel sometimes. Like eventually, you’ll realise you want someone else. I mean, if I were you, I’d get tired of me too, you know? Sometimes it just feels… inevitable.” Your final word is so heavy that is weighs the tears that pool in your eyes, and yet, even through the blur, you risk a glance up at Marc again.

His palm comes to cradle your cheek. His eyes shine steadily on you. Even glint with an unexpected amusement, despite the situation, which you don’t yet comprehend.

“Baby. Do you never think about who you’re talking to, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. I love repetition. Same thing, over and over? Fucking heaven.”

Your insecurities press you to dispute his statement, and your mouth even drops open to counter him; but, actually, when you think about it…

Marc?

This guy?

The guy who eats the same thing everyday for breakfast, except on Saturdays? Who does all of his tasks in the same way, in the same order, every time? Who watches the same three movies on repeat any time he gets a chance? Who buys four of the same shirt so he rarely has to change it up?

“Yeah. Okay,” you concede. “But, why though?Because it’s… easy? Convenient?” That’s not what you want to be for him.

Marc caresses your cheek with his palm again, gaze flitting fondly over your face. He frowns, like he’s never really thought about the why before. Because it had never really occurred to him to think about it. “No. Not exactly. I guess because… It makes me feel… safe.”

“Safe?”

Safe. Is that what you are to him?

“Yeah. Safe like…”

Not like home. Not like the place that never was; safe.

Safe, like the jumper you knitted him, maybe. Safe, like repeating stitch after repeating stitch wrapped around him, keeping him warm.

Repetition as comfort. Routine as the home he never had, built for himself, block by block.

Like that, maybe? Or, like something else?

You swallow harshly. “Safe like… boring?”

“No,” Marc says calmly, still thinking. “No, baby.”

Then, he moves. Crawls on top of you until his nude body is covering yours, boxing you in all safe.

You see the effort plainly in his face. See from the weight in his brow that he’s painstakingly searching for the right words. That he’s reaching for a way to make you get it. Searching for something which he knows for certain you’ll truly understand. “Safe like…” A lightness settles over Marc’s face as he lands on the very thing. Something you can both understand. No chance of misinterpretation. “Safe like… how Steven makes you feel, you know?” Then, he cocks his head to the side, a slow drag of a smile inching, lopsided, over his plush mouth. “Except, in a less brotherly way. Obviously.”

You can’t help it. You tear up. You know what Steven means to Marc. That Steven represented the first time Marc had felt loved. Protected. That Steven made you feel that same way too. “I really make you feel like that?”

Marc’s eyes glow softly with a smile, crinkles appearing around his eyes, since he’s finally beginning to make you understand. “Yeah. Now you’re getting it. And hey. You’d never get sick of that, would you?”

You wouldn’t. “Never.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to your lips. Buries his face in your neck, lips sliding tenderly down the column of your throat. Holding you tightly, his body covering you. He kisses along your collarbone, his tongue laving there. “I’ll never be bored of you.”

“Promise?”

Marc props himself up on his forearms, boxing you in either side of your head and nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours. “In a thousand lifetimes? I’d love you over and over and over and over.”

Finally, you submit a watery smile to him, releasing your sadness and your fears and your tension. Wrapping your arms around him and pulling his mouth down to yours for a deep, tender, loving kiss.

“Well,” you suspire when you break for air. “Then I suppose I like repetition too.”

“Oh yeah?”

You kiss the tip of his nose and his face crinkles with a delicious smile. “Yeah. Because I wanna wake up beside you every single day, Marc Spector.” He smiles in awe at you, eyes glistening with unadulterated adoration and you kiss along his jawline. “And sometimes Steven or Jake too,” you add as an aside. “That I’ll allow.” Marc’s face splits into a beaming smile. “Now, kisses for you all.” You grasp his face in your splayed hands and plant three kisses in turn. One on the cheek, one to the centre of his forehead, and one on his lips, which is all for him.

Marc’s eyes flutter closed as your kiss puckers against him. “Now, get off me, will you?” you tease fondly. “I’ll get us some breakfast. I’m gonna need you fuelled-up.”

“What for?”

“For all of the repetitive fucking we’re about to do.”

Marc flips obediently on to his back, folding his arms behind his head and baring himself entirely to you as you sway -naked- towards the kitchen. “Oh, is that right?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, shortcake.”

You are. You’re feeling much better thanks to Marc and the way in which he loves you - which, you’re discovering, never gets old.

“What are we having?” he asks as you begin to raid the cabinets.

“The usual.” you glance towards him, a smirk on your mouth. “I mean. If that’s okay with you.”

He smiles softly at you in return. “The usual sounds perfect.”

It’s funny.

Marc always did love a little repetition.

Silky Sweet (requested)

gif credits @mult1ple

request: could you write sub jonathan levy please.

pairing: fem!reader x jonathan levy

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, no use of y/n, smut, established dom/sub relationship, mentions of oral (m. receiving), handjob, edging, teasing, cum eating, aftercare, minor angst, confessions of deeper feelings

AN: hope this is enjoyed, i had a lot of fun writing it!

word count: 1.7k

misc. masterlist | requests are open

“Oh, god, please, baby?” Jonathan whines, his hips bucking up against your hand desperately.

The two of you are laying in your bed as you bring him just near the brink of his impending orgasm over and over. His chest is flushed, moving rapidly as he breathes deep and ragged. This is the longest he's lasted during one of your edging sessions; he’s let you do this to him a total of four times without cumming. All you can think is about how good he is for you. How soft and sweet and malleable he grows under your touch.

“What is it, sweetheart?” You murmur against him, the taste of his skin wet and salty from your activities.

This is exactly how you love him: fucked out, needy, and begging for you. You love him desperate, how fuzzy and saccharine his eyes get when you handle him like this. Jonathan loves it too, that he can just crumble in your arms and be as open about his needs as he wants. When was the last time he truly got to do that before you? He’s not sure.

“I need,” The words get caught in his throat when you tighten your grip on his cock, sliding your hand up and down the length.

The sounds of you stroking his cock are lewd and obscene. The tip is covered in lots of pre-cum and some of it has dripped down, working as a lubricant. There’s plenty of your spit on him as well; the first time you’d almost let him cum was with your mouth. You glance down at where you hold him, mesmerized by the way your hand moves up and down. You squeeze him tighter, just on the precipice of pleasure and pain, and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Need what?” You look up at him innocently, dusting soft kisses on his sweaty collarbone.

“Need to cum,” He breathes, his eyes mirroring his verbal pleas.

“Let’s get you to the edge one more time, and then I’ll let you come. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Whatever you want, baby,” He agrees easily and dips his head, slants his mouth against yours in a hungry, sloppy kiss that you return.

You resume your strokes, holding him tighter as you increase the speed. He squeezes his eyes shut, his body going rigid under your touch as you toy with him once again. His hair is wild, damp, curling in different directions from his twisting and turning. The sight makes the ache between your legs almost unbearable, but you continue to focus on him, leaning forward to take his earlobe in between your teeth.

“Such a good boy for me. Are you close, sweetheart?” You run your nose up and down his cheek, inhaling his muted scent, a mix of linen and pine.

“Yes, so close. Please, let me cum. Please,” He begs, his fingers knotting into the sheets as he tries to hold on for you.

You watch him closely, taking in every detail about his willpower– it makes you feel a little drunk. His eyebrows are furrowed together, the vein in his forehead pronounced as he bites down on his lip. He’s holding on for dear life and you can’t help but grin.

“Go ahead and come, baby, you’ve been so good for me,” You encourage.

Your words are all he needs, and he lets go quickly, letting out a low, filthy moan as he cums. His cum is warm on your hand, and you slow the pumps, effectively covering his cock in it. You bring your hand up, resting two fingers against his lips, and when he’s come down from his orgasm he sucks them eagerly, lapping up his own cum. You moan as he does it, watching as his tongue slips into the crevices of your fingers. The kiss you give him afterward says it all, full of affection and praise. He sinks into the mattress as you get up and head into the bathroom, returning with a wet towel that you clean the both of you up with.

Once you’re back in bed next to him, you tuck yourself into his arms, “You okay?”

He hums lazily, tightening his grip on you, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“How’s that head of yours?”

“Quieter now.”

He’d showed up at your apartment looking completely frazzled, and you knew that his mind was moving at a million thoughts per minute, none of them kind. Mira often had that effect on him, taking him to a low place that he struggles to get out of. To give him credit, he’s gotten better at it since the two of you started whatever this is. Today must’ve been brutal, she must’ve really laid it on thick– a thick layer of all the things he could be doing better and all he’s done wrong even though they’re not together anymore.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask cautiously, knowing that he doesn’t generally like to get too transparent about what she’s said to him.

“She knows that I’m a good father. She knows that there’s little to critique with Ava, I dedicate my life to her, and today she went there. Today she…” His voice begins to tremble.

“Hush, it's okay,” You lean away to get a look at him before kissing both his cheeks and capturing your lips with his. “It’s okay. It’s safe here, Jonathan.”

“I know. Thank you,” He whispers into your ear, and the gratitude in his voice almost brings tears to your eyes.

You sit both of you up on the headboard and hand him glasses as you debate whether or not to tell him about your feelings. It's been hard not to fall for him, impossible not to fall for him, because ultimately you have. He has a lot of healing to do and you can acknowledge that, but he’s sweet and supportive and makes you laugh. He’s a person that you can be yourself around unapologetically. The thought of him makes your heart warm and your body relax. Why not take the risk?

“I know that we started this as a distraction, and I’ve been having a lot of fun spending time with you and doing…things to each other but…”

“But?” He prompts, sliding his hand into yours as an act of encouragement.

You look down at your hands and notice how perfectly yours fits against the smoothness of his. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest, your mouth a little dry as you try to formulate your sentences.

You keep your eyes downcast, fixated on a mole on his hand as you speak, “You started this with no desire for it to turn into anything beyond this, and I’m happy to do that if that’s all that you want but I think I want more with you.”

He moves towards you, his free hand coming up to raise your chin so you have to look at him. His eyes are inquisitive, searching your face for any hints of doubt. He wants to make sure you’re being genuine, that you know what you’re getting yourself into because he wants more with you too. And while he doesn’t find any doubt, that confidence that you always exude is fractured. He’s surprised that you’re nervous, you’re usually the one in control, holding the reins and guiding you both through the complexity of this. The more he looks at you the more distracted he gets, lost in the delicacy of your features.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, his voice full of wonder.

You immediately take his words as a start-up to letting you down easily, “But, Jonathan-”

He shakes his head, interrupts you quickly, “I want more with you too, just let me look at you.”

So you shut your mouth, and let him stare at you. It's the most intimate moment the two of you have ever shared, and though you feel comfortable with him your skin heats under his gaze. There’s nothing but tenderness in his eyes, and he sees that reflected back in yours. Both of you feel properly held, suspended in this moment in time in the arms of the other.

He removes his glasses again, leans in to rest his nose against yours, his damp curls against your forehead, “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Well, I was nervous. I didn’t know if you felt the same way,” Your lips brush his as you speak, and you feel rather than see the smile spread across his face.

“Let me reiterate that I do. Can you be patient with me?”

You take his head into your hands before propping yourself against the headboard again, “Jonathan, I’ve been feeling like this for a few months now, I think patient is my middle name.”

That makes him laugh, and he rolls onto his back, bringing you with him in a move that makes you squeal. It makes it easy for him to kiss you, but this kiss feels different; slow, intricate, and silky sweet.

“Can I take you to dinner?” He asks, after kissing you breathless, his cheeks golden skin slightly flushed.

“Like…on a date?”

“On a date,” He confirms.

“You weren’t really dressed for a date when you got here,” You gesture to his pile of sweats on the ground.

“I didn’t say it was going to be fancy,” He teases, and now you’re the one laughing, your warm breath tickling the skin of his cheek.

“Oh, so you’re gonna take me to just any old place, huh?”

“You only get to have that smart mouth in bed,” He pinches your hips playfully, planting one last chaste kiss on your lips. “Go get dressed. Something nice.”

You drown him kisses first, brushing your lips against every exposed inch of his skin you can reach before jumping up and heading back into the bathroom. And when you look into the mirror, all you can do is grin like an idiot; what a risk that was.

if you’d like to be on my jonathan/oscar issac characters taglist let me know!

jonathan levy taglist: @giona45-5, @angelfxllcm, @sweetascherrylies, @hotchs-bitch, @jakelcckley, @mrspector, @jitterbugs927, @myorestes, @winwin70, @ninebluehearts, @siezethenights, @my-rosegold-soul

Had the most random thought, but what if you caught Miguel by surprise and sneaked a kiss on the back of his neck when he's stressed out?

An: Don't mind me, just feeling soft for Miguel because he's corrupting my brain at the moment, lol. Also, wanted to write this to distract me from the fact Pleasurable Practice got smacked with a community label ffs. But, tysm for the love on that fic <33, and [MAYBE] I'll work on pt ii for next week! Thanks again, you lovelies, and enjoy!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - stressed Miguel bc when is he not - you give him a kiss on the neck - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love) - just you and Miguel being adorbs and him being whipped hehe~

Wc: 902

"Aaaaaarrgh!!!"

You snap away from what you were doing to find where the noise came from. Not to your surprise, it's from your boyfriend — Miguel O'Hara, who's expressing his dismay by throwing another tray full of empty containers you got from the cafeteria.

The man is descending from his [godforsaken slow-ass] station, tapping his feet and huffing by the second. His brows are furrowed in anger, and he moves a hand to soothe his forehead with his fingers. When his post finally stops, he jumps down to sit on a chair and groans into his hands.

That was the third time this week. A villain was supposed to be captured and brought into the Spider Society to be sent back to their own universe; however, that was two days ago. And for some reason, this evil-doer has been hopping in and out of multiple universes. It's been a hassle for the other Spiders to grab hold of them; Lyla has to have eyes on them within every minute of every hour, and Miguel...Obviously, he would like to have this matter taken care of already.

You get up from where you're sitting and walk up behind Miguel, whose face is still covered by his hands with inaudible curses that you can tell are in Spanish. "You okay?"

The rise and fall of his broad shoulders entail a huge sigh seething out of his system. "No, mi amor." He frees his face only to rest his forehead with a hand propped by his leg. "This game of cat-and-mouse has been going on longer than necessary, got Spiders who're tired of the chase — I'm tired, yet there's more stuff piling up and—" He stops himself with another deep sigh, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "I just can't right now...."

All you can do is hum aimlessly while massaging his shoulders, his trapezius and deltoids tense with stress. You understand that a lot is going on for Miguel, giving him his space and letting him do what he does best: being a hero. But of course, being a superhero isn't all sunshine and rainbows, and you're bound to get hit with obstacles that'll hinder your progress. Annoyingly so, if you're a leader of an organization like your boyfriend.

Nevertheless, he's only one man, and you know he forgets this fact when he's too wrapped up in work. He's dedicated to protecting his peers, his home, and you. And although you appreciate the sentiment sincerely, you wish he'd remember to not go too hard on himself before he's burnt out.

You sigh through your nostrils, your hands kneading out any remnants of tension while Miguel indulges before storming back to work. That's when an idea hits you when your eyes land on the back ends of his hair, a smile creeping in slowly. Your hand brushes the lower tufts of his brown strands, and you lean down to press your soft lips on him after pulling his suit to expose his neck.

Immediately, Miguel goes rigid at the feeling of your lips on him. And his breath hitches when your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer to you as you lay your chin on top of his head (which you realize is a rare opportunity as he's taller than you).

"Mi lindo araña," You chuckle to yourself when you notice hints of red sneaking on the lobes of his ears. "The more you stress yourself, the more you look like a grouchy face."

"A grouchy face?" His tone holds slight confusion. "You've been hanging with Peter B. too much, amorcito." He shakes his head while you giggle, and you two sink into each other's presence for a little while, taking in the silence outside of the calming breaths Miguel takes. If he were to confess, it's as if almost all his fatigue has vanished into thin air when he's in your embrace. But he doesn't say anything — he doesn't have to. Because you already know.

You set your lips on his temple. "Feeling okay now?" His body vibrates from a tiny purr, and you remove yourself to stand up straight. "Alright then, I'm gonna go to the cafeteria to get something to share. Because you clearly need a snack. And while I'm gone, pick up that tray and those empty containers off the floor before Lyla has another reason to call you a 'grumpy man-child.'"

His face molds to a deep scowl from the mention of his pixelated peer's name-calling. "I am not a man-child."

You give him a look. "You kinda are."

"And what gives you that—"

"Muñeco," Miguel quickly refrains from arguing when you call him by his nickname, the name only you can use. "If you're not a man-child, why haven't you stood up and done what I asked yet?"

The man opens his mouth, yet no words dare leave. Reddish-brown eyes are honed in on your figure as you survey his reaction, and he exhales in defeat when he stands up from his chair. Your smile flourishes. "I'll be back," is what you say as you turn to exit his domain and head to the cafeteria.

Miguel watches you leave until you're out of his line of sight, unable to fight the twinge of his lips while he moves to pick up his mess like you instructed him to.

"Sólo tú puedes darme órdenes, mi alma."

continuing to suck on him after he cums so you can listen to him whimper as he tries to get away>>>