Hey Love!

Stolen from @535zip on Twitter

[X]

He is so yummy 😋

Falling asleep on their shoulders.

A bunch of headcanons about how would they feel. :) (Moon system x reader.) Steven.

In a million years, he would never have accepted a work outing when he could be in his comfortable apartment with Gus, reading a new book.

Until he found out that you would be going.

He never imagined that an amusement park could be so much fun. He had never been to one before.

Or maybe he had, but he doesn’t remember.

You separated from the group as soon as you arrived. Steven thought he would like to be as carefree as you when you took his hand and walked without a trace of nervousness or fear.

You talked all day, about anything and everything.

“You’re very interesting, Steven.” It was probably the sweetest thing he had ever heard. His blush made you feel satisfied.

For the rest of the day, you made sure he knew you were interested in him.

You also mentally noted how his lips brushed against your fingers when you offered him some of your cotton candy.

You held hands again when you rode the tallest roller coaster in the park.

Oh, and you kept the photograph.

“Shall we go see the Aqualoop?” “See it or…?” “Get splashed, I mean.” He couldn’t say no. Both of you were like a pair of children enjoying the day.

Adult life hadn’t given you the chance to enjoy yourselves like this in a long time.

Both of you closed your eyes tightly as the water splashed over you, drenching you from head to toe. You both laughed until your stomach hurt, and Steven brushed a wet strand of hair from your face.

Having him so close made your heart skip a beat.

You spent the rest of the day dripping wet, enjoying the sun on your skin and the warm air drying your hair.

You shared food as the evening approached, and you discovered that vegan food was much better than you had imagined, while Steven ate half of your french fries.

As the park was about to close, you met up with the others at the exit.

Both of you insisted on declining the ride J.B. offered, as your clothes were still wet.

After 20 long minutes of arguing, you accepted on behalf of yourself and Steven.

Or Scotty, as J.B. had called him, making you struggle to hold back your laughter.

The space in the back seat was limited, and your body was squeezed between Steven and the car door, but you couldn’t say you were uncomfortable.

His body emitted a delightful warmth.

A yawn escaped you.

“Are you tired?” Steven’s whisper near you broke the complete silence in the car.

You silently nodded, rubbing one of your eyes with your hand.

If only he had the courage to tell you how adorable he thought you were.

Minutes of silence passed, your breathing became slower and heavier, and your head gradually leaned to the side as you began to fall asleep.

And it happened. Your cheek ended up against Steven’s shoulder.

He almost vomited from excitement, not exaggerating. Needless to say, he was the type of person who simply assumed he would die of natural causes before moving or telling you that his shoulder had become tired.

After a few minutes, you shifted, slipping an arm underneath his and intertwining your fingers together, returning to your place on his shoulder after.

He allowed himself to finally smile.

And the hours it took him to gather the courage finally culminated in the best part of the night. He leaned in enough to kiss your forehead.

You smiled too, without opening your eyes.

Marc.

One day, you had to explode, and he knew it.

His plans were always thwarted because Khonshu interfered with his sudden missions that not only meant pausing whatever you were doing, but also meant that Marc would disappear completely from the radar for God knows how many days.

It was strange when he returned, too. It took him days to return to normal, if you were lucky enough he would tell you what had happened, only partially.

“It’s always the same!” You finally screamed at your breaking point. Tears overflowed from your eyes as you quickly packed your clothes into your suitcase. You didn’t care if the clothes became even more wrinkled.

“You knew it would be like this, I told you.” Marc had the migraine of the century.

You shouted at each other for a while, and the maid looked at you as if you were crazy.

To be fair, you sounded like it.

The argument came to a close when Marc went too far with his words. You didn’t argue often, but when you did, it always ended like this.

You cried the whole way to the bus station. And you almost started another argument when you pushed your boyfriend’s hand away to prevent him from grabbing your suitcase.

If only he had the strength to set aside his pride for once, he would have apologized the moment the tip of your nose turned red.

You wished you could switch places with a stranger to avoid hours of travel with him.

But it didn’t happen.

You felt like the thousand times you cried yourself to exhaustion as a child. You even let out a yawn within the first 15 minutes of the trip.

It didn’t take long for you to succumb to physical and emotional exhaustion, thinking that sleeping would make time pass faster and you would be away from him sooner.

He was so focused on avoiding your gaze by looking out the window that he didn’t even notice when you fell asleep.

Until your head landed on his shoulder with a sudden turn in the road.

Marc’s body tensed. He was too stubborn to give in instantly, but at the same time, he was too in love to push you away.

He looked at you, and his chest tightened.

You looked so vulnerable. So tender and small. How could he hurt you if he loved you so much?

Unbeknownst to him, a barely noticeable pout formed on his lower lip.

“I love you,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. He was almost consoling himself in the pain of having to carry the regret of his words.

“I love you with all my heart,” he repeated.

It was futile, you were deeply asleep.

He made his decision and closed his eyes, leaning his head against yours to find comfort.

He would sleep by your side, feeling the warmth of your body, and when you woke up, he would apologize to you as many times as necessary.

Even if it meant having to make it up to you with other vacations.

Jake.

You never exchanged words unless it was necessary.

You knew his name, he knew yours, and that you were good at fighting together. Unfortunately, you didn’t have a “magical” suit to help with that.

You stared out the window, suppressing the urge to moan in pain every time the taxi jolted on the road. You had survived worse things than a twisted ankle and a possible broken rib.

Jake didn’t look at you, only when he heard you hiss or take a deep breath because of the discomfort you were in.

“We’re close to the hotel,” he reassured you, even though it was a lie. You were in the middle of nowhere, trusting that the driver had the correct directions.

You nodded silently, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against the cold window.

Five more minutes passed, and there were no signs of life on the road, but the pain became more bearable as exhaustion started clouding your perception.

Every time you were about to fall asleep, a tap of your forehead against the window would wake you up.

And you didn’t even notice his gaze on you.

After the seventh hit, Jake lost his patience.

“Eso no va a funcionar, cariño.” You didn’t understand, and you couldn’t be bothered to understand as you kept your eyes closed.

The last thing you felt was his body moving closer to yours.

You yielded, your body finally relaxing as you managed to fall asleep. It was easier for Jake to wrap his arm around your shoulders and gently push you against his, allowing you to rest.

Almost immediately, he regretted it.

Jake didn’t have this kind of closeness with anyone. His interactions with other people always involved punches, sometimes harder, sometimes softer, but pain was always present.

Was it normal for his heart to race like this? He would investigate later.

You moved your head slightly to snuggle better against his shoulder as he held his breath, trying not to make the slightest movement that could wake you.

“¿Cuánto va a ser?” he asked in a low tone so that the driver would understand his concern about not disturbing you.

The driver pointed to the meter in silence. Well, he encountered someone even quieter than himself.

Jake lost count of how many times he whispered in your ear, “Shh, cariño.” (although sometimes he changed the endearment to “cielo” or “corazón”) as a way to lull you in his arms whenever you shifted in your seat.

When you arrived, he paid in silence, as usual.

He didn’t wake you up, in fact, he did his best to be as stealthy as possible.

He slid one of his arms under your legs, wrapped the other around you, and lifted you up like a bride.

Jake was careful, but not so much that your reflexes didn’t catch the movement.

You woke up, but never opened your eyes; you simply nestled closer to his chest and enjoyed his care.

Tomorrow you would both face whatever you had to face.

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!

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screaming crying throwing up

Thinking about boyfriend! Hobie, and how he's so different when he's not being Spider-Man.

Like how after a big day of missions, he comes home to you and gets patched up, taking off his shirts and jacket before tiredly laying on your couch.

He knowsss you like the casual height dominance he has, and it only increases when he walks around with nothing but low waisted jeans and platform boots on. Towering over you as you try to just have a conversation with him, but you can't because of how fucking fit he looks.

Literally never stops teasing like he'll come through the window, bleeding from the ribs or some shit, and he'll just-

Take off his shirt + jacket, sit on the couch, then "Aye darlin', be a doll and stop this bleedin' would ya?".

You'd come in from the other room, not knowing what to expect, then stop in your tracks as you see him sprawled out on the lounge. Shirtless, sweaty, trying to catch his breath, blood seeping down his side yet he's so casual about it.

Overtime he taught you to be casual about it too, saying things like "don't waste your energy on worrying about me, getting hurt is part'a the job".

He'll play guitar in your room when he's waiting for you to get home, it's the best thing to come home to. You know as soon as you enter the room, he'll either play it for you and sing very softly, or he'll put it down carefully and cuddle with you in bed for the rest of the night.

If he gets called into a mission before you wake up, he'll always leave a note for you. You've told him he doesn't need to since tou know it's his job, but he insists, and they're always rlly cute.

He'll play at shows and always gets you special access, plus he shows off mega hard when you're in the crowd.

He's just so rockstar boyfriend I love him

MARGOT ROBBIE "Barbie" Celebration Party (June 30, 2023)

🕷️ hehe