Oscar Isaac Behind The Scenes Of The Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

May Calamawy as Layla El-Faouly MOON KNIGHT | 1.03

the break-up:

summary: in which y/n is going through a break-up with the moon boys and happens to be serving when one of them is on a date. reader x steven, reader x marc, reader x jake (3rd person, she/her pronouns)

warnings: ANGST (there is fluff, don’t worry) , break-up, language, fem! reader

word count: 4109 

thank you for all the love on this fic!! every interaction has made me smile and is very much appreciated. hope you enjoy :)

Keep reading

This is my euphoria

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

That Kraven movie looks like a mess but baby, listen, LISTEN he looks like a whole ass snack on level 200% so yes I will watch. But not in a theater, from the comfort of my home when it’s released to steaming. On a night I’m alone and my partner is working so I can be ridiculous.

Yeah they know their audience. Our thirsty asses will sit thru a crap movie to drool over this.

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.

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miguel is hot but he was such hypocrite 😭. a big hot angry hypocrite with a fat ass

coming home

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: miguel comes back home from patrol and wakes you up by sticking his dick inside of you<3

warnings: smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, consensual somnophilia (prior consent established), sleepy sex

tags: f!reader, fluff

word count: 2k

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The idea had come to his mind way long before he created the portal that would bring him back home.

In fact, the thought had stuck and hadn’t left his mind since the day that you talked about it, but tonight just happened to seem like the right moment.

He desperately, so desperately needed to blow off some steam, to think about something else than the fact that the future of every universe was relying on him.

He slowly pushed your shared bedroom door open, trying his best not to make a sound so you wouldn’t wake up from your deep sleep.

He quietly joined the bed, tiptoeing around, carefully avoiding the squeaky area of the floorboards before his suit disappeared from his body, leaving him bare.

You were laying on your side, the thin sheet brought up to your shoulders, the slight chill of the night forming goosebumps over your exposed skin.

Miguel slides under the sheets, the mattress dipping under his weight, and presses his body flush against yours, his chest facing your back.

He is so warm compared to you, his hand sliding under your shirt and resting over your bare stomach, rubbing his thumb over your cold skin as he nuzzles the back of your head, leaving kisses at the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

Your scent soothes him, he finally feels like he's home, the tension weighing on him finally feels a bit lighter.

Slowly, his hand slides up under your shirt to cup your breast, his thumb tracing back and forth over your hard nipple perked from the cold, eliciting a soft sigh from you and making you stir in your sleep.

Your reaction makes him chuckle softly, still careful not to wake you up. He keeps on toying with you, caressing over your nub as he kisses under your ear, his broad hand then trailing down your stomach, burying into your underwear to cup your mound.

His breath catches in his throat when he realizes how ready you already are for him; his fingertips barely graze against your slit and feel the wetness pooling there, the thin material of your underwear all soaked.

He can feel his erection twitch against the back of your leg when he realizes how aroused you already are, a surprise for him that thought that he would have to tease you and work you up a bit to get you wet and ready to take him.

It's a blessing that you're making it easier for him, it comforts him in the fact that he's allowed to do this; even though you have thoroughly talked about this before and established prior consent and rules, Miguel always feared that you might not be in the mood when the moment comes or that he could scare you; hurting you was the very last thing he wanted, and he knew he would feel extremely guilty if all of this ended up going wrong.

It is with affirmed confidence that he slides your ruined underwear down your ass, a part of him wanting to make his claw go through it so he could tear it off to get it out of the way for good.

He makes sure the piece of cloth reaches your knees before he presses himself closer to you, the contact against the bare cheek of your ass already driving him crazy.

He takes his shaft in hand, pumping it slowly, smearing the trail of precum drooling from the head along the length before directing the tip towards your entrance. He doesn’t even want to tease you, to try to get a reaction out of you before he goes in; he needs to be inside of you, he needs to fuck the stress out of him, he needs to feel you constricted around him.

Miguel slowly, so slowly and carefully pushes into your heat, inch by inch. His forehead presses against your shoulder as he gradually eases himself inside you, the delicious first contact against your velvety walls making him bite hard on his bottom lip, accompanied by a muffled grunt escaping from his gritted teeth when a small whimper leaves your mouth, your hand clutching the bedsheet in your sleep.

It is always a stretch when you take him, the size of him always requiring him to go slow for you to take him fully.

He has to press his mouth against your skin to prevent any sound from coming out of his mouth as he pushes deeper into you, progressively easing himself in, stretching you out little by little.

You sleepily hum at the sweet feeling of the gradual intrusion, softly squirming in place, a wrecked moan leaving Miguel's mouth when you shift in your sleep and unexpectedly impale yourself further onto his length, his cock now filling you to the hilt.

He wraps an arm around your waist as he whispers profanities under his breath, his face burying into your neck, breathing you in as he starts to grind into you, small thrusts to make sure you're accommodating to his size.

He's holding you tight, his arm firmly wrapped around your sleeping figure, his mouth falling agape at the feeling of your cunt swallowing him whole; it's all he needed right now, to be home with you, to hold you tight and to be buried deep inside of you.

His thrusts are slow, languid and gentle at first, letting you get used to the stretch, until he starts to grow needier, hungrier, the way your cunt flutters around him only spurring him to grow bolder.

His grip around your waist loosens up, his hand shifting to rest against your hip when he pulls almost all the way out, only leaving the tip inside before pushing into you until his hips are flush against your ass, the soft stroke against your walls making him mutter curses in his mother language.

He repeats his movements over and over again, going a bit faster each time, bucking into you at a steady rhythm and your body reacts at once; you writhe in your sleep, soft sounds and small moans leaving your mouth as Miguel whispers words of praise into your ear though they're most likely unheard and therefore useless; he can't help himself, not when you're taking him so well, not when you feel the way you feel around him.

His hand grabs at the inside of your thigh to hold it up, offering him a new angle allowing him to go deeper, the snapping sounds of skin on skin resonating inside the dark bedroom as he gradually pounds deeper and faster into you.

Your small and drowsy sounds slowly start to grow more affirmed and more present; Miguel is far too gone to register that fact, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and he doesn't notice your breath faltering, growing faster and sharper, until–

"Fuck, Miguel" your voice is gravely with sleep, a bit rough, his hips involuntarily snapping sharply against your rear when he realizes that you're awake, the sudden movement eliciting a choked sound from you.

A raspy groan resonates against your shoulder, his warm breath and the hot feeling of his chest pressed flush against your back greatly contrasting with the freezing temperature that was hanging in the atmosphere when you went to bed.

His hand leaves your thigh to cup your jaw, angling your face towards him so he can capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, making him hum in contentment at the familiar taste and feeling of your tongue against his while your hand buries and fists into his hair.

"Feels okay?" he asks as he pulls away from your mouth, his thumb stroking your cheek, his red eyes boring into yours as his hips continue snapping up into you, sharp thrusts that knock the air out of your lungs.

"Better than okay" you reassure him, another choked moan leaving your mouth and making you tug hard on his hair when he unexpectedly hits just the right spot deep inside of you. "F-Fuck" you hiss through your teeth, your hand shifting from his hair to grasp his wrist as his hand rests over your neck, not applying any pressure there. "Right there" you mutter out of breath, your grip tightening around his wrist.

"I know baby, I know" he kisses your cheek, biting down on his lip as he watches how you squirm under him. "Look at you" he whispers into your ear, his voice dropping to an octave. "Thought about this all day long" he sighs as he rams into your sweet spot repeatedly while you whimper his name over and over again, your face burying into the pillow, his burying into your neck again.

His rhythm doesn't falter, doesn't slow down as his movements repeat themselves; you wonder how he still has all that energy left when you know the kind of days he’s used to – not one minute to settle down, not one second to breathe even – but you're way too far gone to really think about it in depth; not when it feels that good.

"Miguel– I'm close" the words struggle to come out of your mouth because by the time you say them out loud you're almost already there – you can feel the searing feeling starting to build inside your lower stomach, all of your nerves endings setting on fire, and finally you snap; it comes in waves and it washes out over you, the blinding feeling taking over your whole body; you can hear Miguel talking but you can’t figure out what he’s saying, you can only feel the floaty feeling being prolonged as he continues to grind into you with the same pace.

Miguel grunts loudly, relishing in the feeling of your walls clenching and contracting around him, your orgasm squeezing him tight and drawing a choked sound out of him.

His hips stutter and press as deep inside of you as possible as he throbs and spills himself into you, rope after rope of his warm spent filling you to the brim, a mess of spanish profanities whimpered into the shell of your ear.

He remains inside of you until you both come back to your senses, nuzzling the crook of your neck as he catches his breath, the back of his hand wiping away the thin layer of sweat having built over his forehead. He lets out a soft sigh as he slowly eases his softening cock out of you, his hand guiding your face towards his again so he could slot his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

"Rough day?" you ask once you pull away, only the faint light of the streetlamp outside your window allowing you to see the side of his face hovering over you, conveniently hiding the small cut over his cheek at the opposite side. You know his heightened senses allow him to see you as clear as daylight, and you know that unlike you, he can see every littlest expression over your face.

"Yeah. Rough day. I'm glad I'm home" he declares with a coy smile, the tip of his fingers pushing the hair out of your face.

You smile back at him before pulling him down into a kiss again, and you smile against his lips when he softly hums into your mouth.

"Was that okay?" he asks, still remaining close to your face, his nose brushing against yours.

"What? Waking up with you inside of me? Does it look like I didn't enjoy it?" you ask rhetorically, which earns a small chuckle from him.

He lays back down onto the mattress with a small grunt, humming in contentment when you turn to him so you can wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head against his chest as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"Maybe I'll be the one to wake you up next time" you teasingly coo looking up at him, biting back a smile when you see the way his eyebrows rise.

"I better fall asleep soon then" he grins, his expression softening but getting cockier.

"Mhm," you hum in agreement, feeling your eyes getting heavy with sleep.

—

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