No, No I’m Fine Really I’m Fine It’s Just Sometimes Poe Dameron Gets In My Head And I Can’t Stop

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

rydal keener x reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤: slow and soft

warnings: angst, piv sex

word count: 0.4k

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

“Why do you have to leave” he complains in what could almost resemble a whine as his hips push languidly into you, as he holds tighter onto your intertwined fingers besides your head. Your free hand grabs the back of his head, burying into his soft, straight hair, pushing him down onto your face so your lips could meet.

You sigh into his mouth as his tongue slips into yours, that sweet feeling you know you will miss and long for the moment you will realize you’re apart for good.

You should have known it was a bad idea, falling in love with a man you knew you would have to leave eventually. 

“I don’t want to, believe me” you breathe out against his mouth once you pull away, brushing along his cheekbone with your thumb. “I’d stay by your side if I could” you nod, staring deep into his eyes as the inner corner of his eyebrows angled up in a weakened expression. "But Greece isn’t where I should be" you muttered under your breath, your own words making your heart break.

He grunts as he angles his thrusts deeper inside you, making you grab onto his bicep as your mouth falls open.

"You should– you should be by my side, it doesn't have to be about Greece" he declares before he lets out a strangled moan, squeezing your hand as his forehead presses against yours.

"And– give up the life you built here?" you ask, your hand traveling back up his arm, your thumb caressing the hollow of his neck.

"Yes." his answer is rushed, the idea of a second thought completely scratched. 

You chuckle, stunned by the absurdity of the possibility. Your heart still aches at the fact that he was ready to leave everything behind for you.

"I can't." you weakly admit as his head buries into your neck. “You’ll be okay without me. Find someone else, love her as much as you loved me, even more. I won’t be mad at you”

You feel his tears dampening your skin, his breath faltering in quiet sobs as he still continues to press light, gentle kisses to your skin as he thrusts slowly and deep into you. You bite down onto your lip as you feel your own tears starting to threaten your eyes and a knot forming at your throat.

The worst part of this is holding you tight knowing it's the last time he ever will, knowing you will be gone tomorrow.

—

as always please reblog and tell me your thoughts it helps a lot!!

tagging some mutuals because I don't have a rydal taglist, feel free to ignore <3: @my-secret-shame @campingwiththecharmings @spacecowboyhotch @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @melodygatesauthor @midgardian-witch @foxilayde

+ @flightlessangelwings

Weightless.

Steven Grant x FReader.

Tags - Warnings: Sad baby Steven. Angst but not that bad, lol. Mentions of violence. Mentions of Marc and Jake. Word count: 1477. Summary: The feeling of being trapped goes beyond the ankle bracelet that keeps him tied to the bed. It’s the emptiness of waking up every day without knowing what happened the night before, the memories of a relationship he didn’t experience firsthand, or perhaps the empty sockets of a deranged god looming over him every minute of the day.

First he hears the alarm, then he feels the pain of his entire body throbbing because Marc did who-knows-what with it. Or maybe it was Jake. Does it even matter? The point is that someone didn’t have the courtesy to keep the suit on for a few more seconds the previous night so that Steven could wake up without feeling like a truck had run him over.

Fortunately, this time he remembered to remove the ankle restraint before getting up to avoid a doubly painful fall. It didn’t take much effort for him to stand up; he was never one of those people who liked to stay in bed after the alarm went off, although, of course, that was also Marc’s fault.

If he could avoid being in bed as much as possible, it was better for him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat when he noticed the absence of one of the two goldfish that had been living in his fish tank for the past few months. He didn’t even want to ask, although the mess in his apartment was explanation enough that some kind of fight had taken place there.

When he looked at his reflection in the spoon he used to mix his coffee, he hoped that one of them would apologize. Marc did it occasionally, Jake would silently fix the mess and hope that would be enough to solve his mistake.

Nothing.

Silence, not even a glance.

That’s how it was for a few seconds until his phone rang, notifying him of a message.

✉  →  Lovey. ♡

✉ ; Good morning, Steven!

✉ ; Do you want a donut? I’m about to buy some for breakfast.

✉ ; Goodnight! Love you. <3

✉ ; Hey there! Look at this picture of a kitten I found. It looks just like you, don’t you think?

✉ ; Goodnight. :)

Finally, amidst six unanswered messages from you, Steven finds one of his own.

✉ ; I kove tou.

He rolls his eyes to himself. Did he really send that without even checking if it was properly written? Well, it was to be expected, it was the last thing he did before falling asleep.

Another problem caused by Jake and Marc. They checked text messages the second they arrived, so when Steven wanted to communicate with you, he found himself with at least ten of your messages unanswered, just opened, waiting for a response.

Frustration made him close his eyes and take a deep breath. Couldn’t they do that one simple thing for him? Just let him know he had to reply to something. It was simple.

“Jake? Marc?” He called out as he turned his head towards his open bathroom. He could see his reflection from there without any problem.

There was no response.

“She matters to me.” It was the only thing he said as his knuckles pounded on the table, a self-soothing action. “She’s all I have. Do you know that?”

Marc wants to object but stays silent so Steven can continue.

"She’s all I have.” This time his voice breaks, and his hand continues with the pounding. “My apartment is no longer mine. I no longer have my job. I no longer have my body. I no longer have my life.” The pounding grows stronger as tears fill his eyes.

Steven has never had a problem with his sensitivity. When he feels the need to cry, he does, and that’s it.

“She matters to me.” He repeats. “And you can’t do one simple thing for me, which is to support me.” He slams his phone with the opposite hand against the table. “I’m going to lose her because you can’t even notify me that I have a message to respond to. You’re suffocating me, both of you.”

There were a few seconds of silence before he continued speaking. “I’m trapped.” It was the last thing that came out of his lips.

As if God himself had heard his words, the poor phone starts ringing. It’s a call, and Steven can do nothing but take a deep breath and clear his throat so that his voice doesn’t sound as fractured as it feels.

It’s you. And you don’t wait a second after the ringtone ends, not even waiting a greeting from his side.

“This city is trying to kill me.” You say quickly, taking advantage of the fact that for the first time in a long time Steven managed to answer the call in time. “Do you want to go to the beach?”

Steven laughs. Well, more like exhales through his nose, doubting whether you’re serious or not.

“I’m 5 minutes away from your apartment.” You speak again to confirm that you’re not joking. “Do you want to go? Are you free?” He can hear your smile in your voice.

“I’m free.” His gaze wanders over the mess in his apartment; he’s definitely not free. Besides, he already knows that on Wednesday afternoons Jake… Whatever it is he does those days, he never wanted to answer him.

“Steven.” The voice finally makes itself heard in the mirror. “Not today. You know that I…”

“Please, let’s go.” The English accent is stronger when he’s annoyed, you’ve noticed that even though seeing him annoyed is like seeing Halley’s Comet. “I can’t take it anymore. Please, take me.”

“Do you think we should pursue architecture?” You hit the plastic bucket with your small plastic shovel until your instinct tells you that you can lift it without risking the sand getting stuck.

You form the piece number 8 in your huge sandcastle while Steven is trying to figure out how to create a fake tiny lake without the sand swallowing the water.

It’s fascinating to see him in a completely different environment from the one you always find yourselves in. In the city, there’s always noise, people are always busy, always rushing from one place to another, and you feel your lungs hurt from breathing in the pollution around you.

You prepared enough activities to keep yourselves occupied the whole day, and you were still on the first one, spending a good twenty minutes concentrating on building the sandcastle. Of course, the first ten were a struggle to avoid fixating on Steven’s tanned skin, the way a small belly formed in his body from sitting upright, or even the muscles in his arms flexing as he dug with his own tiny shovel.

When you noticed his focus on the game, you wondered if Steven ever had the chance to do something like this as a child.

You knew his situation inside out; it had become an explanation for the days he disappeared without a trace, the bruises on his body, or the unanswered messages. So, it was impossible for you not to feel warmth in your chest when you saw him smile, attempting a very poor imitation of the Giza Pyramid with wet sand.

“I brought some residents.” A couple of Calico Critters figurines were in your hands, a handful that you offered to the guy beside you.

His eyes lit up.

“Did you collect these? They’re definitely your kind of trinket.” You nodded in response to his question, smiling with flushed cheeks. “Alright, this one will be the pharaoh.” He was so delicate when he took one of the teddy bears in your hands that a sigh escaped your lungs.

“These will be his servants.” You stacked the figurines around the construction, which seemed to have no particular sense. You even placed one in Steven’s makeshift water lake, which had somehow worked already. “Steven?”

“Huh?” The smile on his lips dazzled you as he looked up. His curls were more pronounced with the moisture from the beach, his cheeks flushed from the heat, and you had never seen someone whose eyes were complemented so well by the golden hour.

Those huge brown eyes that made your heart race, they usually stood out because of the dark circles underneath them, but today they seemed to shine like stars, even in the full light of day.

“Did you like the beach when you were a child?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest; his childhood was something very blurry for him. It wasn’t like that before, but Marc’s appearance had complicated something in his brain. Now he doubted which parts were true and which were not, so the most accurate thing to do was to admit that he didn’t know. “I had a dream about Layla a while ago, I know she went to the beach one day with Marc or something like that. Maybe I’ll ask him later if he used to like it, if he bothers to respond.”

“What do you mean?” Your fingers arranged another Calico Critter at the fake entrance of your sandcastle.

“They disappear when I ask questions. Both of them.” Steven began to fill his own bucket again, compacting the sand inside it every now and then with his small shovel. He had chosen the yellow one. “This morning they decided to ignore me.”

You simply nodded, already familiar with the tone of “I’m going to talk until I’m tired” in his voice.

“Can you believe it?” His hands flattened the sand where he planned to place the bucket. “I woke up feeling like I got beaten up, and I don’t doubt that it happened. It’s the second time this week, not to mention the mess in my apartment. That must be the mess number 118 since we apparently cleared things up.”

He wishes that he was dramatizing, but he has lost count of how many books he has lost in those messes and how many goldfish they try to replace as if Steven was a child who wouldn’t notice.

“I thought there would be no more lies between us, I thought we were working as a team.” He avoids your gaze as his chest tightens and his breathing becomes erratic; here comes the crying again. “But I’m not included anymore, I’ve realized that.”

Silently, you decide to lean your cheek against his shoulder. His skin feels as warm as it looks, and it’s pleasant, the warmth of both of you colliding comfortably.

“I feel like I’m walking blind. I don’t know at what point in my life I am, I don’t know what we have planned for the future, or if this is all I’ll have for the rest of my days.” His cheek rests against your hair, a way to let you know that he happily receives your touch. “I feel like I’m…”

“Trapped?” You complete with a sigh. Even his words come out as if someone is strangling him, choked, painful.

“Trapped.” He nods slowly, comforting himself by focusing on how his index finger draws fake windows on the sandcastle. “And you.”

“And me.”

“How can I ask you to be with me if I can’t even send you a coherent text message?” The pain in his chest is stronger than the shyness he would feel at any other time admitting his interest in you.

But the truth is, it’s already too obvious.

What Steven and you have is not easy to label. In fact, it’s impossible, but it would be foolish to pretend that there isn’t something you’ve both known for a long time.

You love each other. And you’re trying to do what’s best for each other.

That has always been enough for you.

“We are together, Steven.” Your head remains on his shoulder as you lean back slightly, enough to look at him with a faint smile. It would be stupid to pretend that you’re not worried about him and everything he just said, but it’s more important for you to clarify that your relationship doesn’t have to be part of all that emotional burden weighing on his shoulders for so long.

“Eh? B-But I…”

Your lips silence him, a very short and small kiss. Chaste and innocent, just like Steven himself, or like the feelings you share.

“We are together.” You confirm once again before going in for another kiss.

The rest of the day at the beach is as peaceful as the beginning. Together, you eat the pile of snacks you packed and even toast with two juice boxes, one apple and one orange.

You step on the sand mounds that used to form a castle together and, almost at the end, you sit on the shore to let the water tickle your feet. You also filled your little bucket with water several times to pour it on Steven, but that’s another story.

You saved the best part for last.

“Did you know that Dr. Seuss was a terrible person?”

“Steven, I didn’t bring it up so you could ruin a childhood experience for me.” You bite your lower lip to keep from laughing as you make room on the beach lounger that both of you claimed as your own as soon as you saw it.

You had to lie on your side so that both of you could fit without being cramped, even raising your leg over his and resting an arm on his chest.

You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his breath rising and falling against your arm slowly.

“One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.” He says amidst a small laugh. This must be a trap of yours to hear him stumble over his own words in that adorable English accent that always makes you smile.

“A classic.” Your fingers wander over his abdomen, tickling him.

“Okay, okay. I’ll read it, leave me alone.” He finally gives in before clearing his throat.

The discussion was longer than the time it took for you to fall asleep. With your head resting on Steven’s chest and one of his arms around your shoulders as he held the book in front of both of your faces.

As soon as your breathing became heavier, he decided it was time to stop the torture of reading a rhyming book as someone who spoke so fast. So, he placed the book on his stomach and focused on holding you, feeling the beating of your heart against his body.

The sun began to set, and for the first time, Steven had time for himself and his thoughts.

He didn’t hate Marc. He didn’t hate Jake. How could he? They were two vital parts of him, and like him, they had a thousand things to carry. Maybe next time he would ask both of them how they feel or if they’re doing okay.

Sometimes he forgot that he could have these moments. Feeling light, carefree. He could take a break and forget about the rest of the world in your arms. Could they do that too?

With a sigh, he let go of all the heaviness he had been carrying in his body since he woke up that day. And he looked down.

The way you assured him you two were together was the next thing that crossed his mind. Was being trapped really that bad? The truth was, no. He liked his life, at least the part that belonged solely to him.

He liked being trapped in his small apartment with the things he loved the most. He liked being trapped in the noisy city that had embraced him since he arrived. He liked being trapped in his body with Marc and Jake, not being alone. He liked being trapped in your arms.

He just had to take the time to appreciate it more often.

Marc Spector: babygirl

Noooooo😂☠️

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!

Wasted On You

AN: No one asked for this but it came to me, and I wanted it so, hope y'all enjoy lol.

(Un-beta’d)

In which Poe is a handsy, overly-affectionate drunk.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,863 Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, frottage/thigh riding, semi-public sex, soft!Poe, sub!Poe (if you squint), fluff, PDA, cursing, Poe being the adorable menace that he is. AO3

———

The spotchka sloshes out of your glass as you clink it with the others at the table, the sounds of raucous laughter and general gaiety filling the room as everyone celebrates the Resistance’s latest win. It’d been a big one, one that had been fought for long and hard; years of sleepless nights and an innumerable number of undercover missions later, it was finally over. Everyone was thrilled, of course, but none more so than Poe Dameron. 

You take a sip and smile as you watch him cheer, his elation and relief obvious. He’d been neck deep in the middle of it all as the General’s right-hand man, taking charge of at least a third of the missions that had gotten all of you to this point; if anyone deserved to celebrate, it was definitely Poe. 

It’s why you haven’t tried to pull him away yet, why you haven’t stopped him from drinking jet juice like it’s water. You know you probably should but…he’s just having so much fun, and you can’t bear to be the one that ends it. He’s definitely sloshed, laughing at the dumbest things and stumbling around like a baby that’s just learning how to walk. It’s been pretty amusing to witness, if you’re honest.  

You watch as the people he’s been speaking with move on, clapping him on the shoulder as they head toward another group that’s taken up residence in the back corner. Once he’s alone, he sits quietly, smiling softly to himself for a moment, before his brow suddenly furrows in confusion. He looks around, an exaggerated frown on his lips as he searches for something. When his eyes meet yours, his smile returns, wide and a little dopey, as he stands to his feet and unsteadily shuffles over. 

You chuckle when he plops down onto the chair beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders as he leans in so close, his nose bumps against your cheek. 

“There you are, sweetheart,” he drawls, his voice raspy from all the cheering and screaming. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

An involuntary shiver runs through you at the roughness of his voice, conjuring memories of the other times he’s sounded like this for you (his forehead pressed to yours, breath puffing against your lips as he pushes into you again and again—). He pulls you closer, his lips brushing your cheek as his other hand falls to your knee. 

“Maker,” he groans, kissing his way over your jaw toward your ear. “Baby, you smell delicious.” 

You tilt your head slightly to better accommodate him, your chuckle a little throaty. “I do?” 

He hums, pushing his nose against the side of your neck and breathing in deeply.  

You chew your lip, eyes darting around the room as he resumes kissing you, this time on your neck, the hand on your knee slowly inching its way up to your thigh. 

“Poe,” you warn, squirming a little in your chair as you halt his hand’s upward progression with your own. “We’re in public.” 

He grunts, nosing aside the collar of your shirt to nip at your collarbone. “So?” 

Your chuckle morphs into a whine as he worries a mark there with his teeth, arousal pooling in your gut at the mild sting. He groans into your neck when your fingers find their way into his hair, curling around the soft, thick strands. Gently, you pull him off of you, his eyelids heavy, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the way he looks at you, so much unabashed love and adoration, so much want. Unable to resist, you lean in and kiss him softly on the lips. 

 As you pull away again, you say. “C’mon, flyboy, let me take you home.” 

The two of you say goodnight to everyone before stumbling from the cantina, Poe’s arm laid over your shoulders. Your arm wraps around his waist in an effort to keep him upright, only to have him lean heavily against your side, humming contentedly as he buries his face in your neck again. You manage to get him to the door just outside the living quarters hall before he starts trying to grope you, hand slipping not-so-stealthily toward your chest.  

“Stop it,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes as you swat his hand away. 

He snorts into your neck, his mouth once again exploring the area. “Stop what?” he asks between kisses, lips dragging over your skin. “‘m not doing anything.” 

You hum skeptically, pausing to key the entry code to the door. As you wait for it to slide open, he pulls your earlobe between his lips, his teeth nipping at the edges. Your breath hitches in surprise, and he must hear it because he smiles. You drag him into the hall once the door opens, silently thanking the Maker that everyone seems to still be out celebrating. 

Poe’s quarters aren’t far, and normally take just a few minutes to reach, however, what should be a quick trek is hindered by the fact that a certain drunk commander can’t seem to stop touching you. You fend him off without issue, though, biting back your laughter at the terrible pick-up lines he’s throwing your way. 

“You do know that I can’t carry you, right?” you tease, snorting as he knocks you into the wall with his weight again. 

He chuckles as he attempts to right himself, but only succeeds in making you even more lopsided. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t help that I am trapped in the gravitational field of your smile.” 

You scoff, shaking your head fondly as you turn the corner to the hall that (blessedly) houses Poe’s quarters. “You’re an idiot.” 

He laughs again, and you grunt as he leans into your side yet again, his breath puffing against your cheek. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” 

It’s cheesy, but the truth of the statement makes something warm lodge itself in your heart all the same. 

You’re almost there, can literally see his door as you both plod awkwardly down the hall. He’s quieter now, but you’re so focused on getting him into his room, you don’t think to ask why.  

Without warning, he leans into you again, throwing you off balance and pinning you to the wall with his hips. Before you can scold him, he covers your lips with his own, stealing your words as well as the breath from your lungs. He tastes like a Keshian spice roll, sweet and a little tangy, and you melt into him, your fingers curling into his shirt to keep him against you. His tongue is warm, insistent, as it slides hungrily against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.  

He sighs, grinding against you clumsily as he devours your mouth. His hands are everywhere; on your face, your hips, your ass, his strong fingers gripping and pulling, manipulating your body like he would his ship. You whine as he slots his thigh between your legs, pushing it up against your core, mumbling something about wanting to see you fall apart. You moan at the friction, canting your hips as he pulls his mouth from yours to groan into your neck. Your fingers weave into his hair as you both continue to grind against each other, the pleasure building steadily in your gut.  

“Poe,” you sigh breathlessly, eyes flying open when you remember where you are. “Baby, your room is right there.” 

He grunts in response, his mouth latching onto your neck.  

You open your mouth to respond, then promptly choke on a moan when he shifts his leg, the movement pressing the seam of your pants against your clit.  

“Maker, I love all the pretty, little sounds you make,” he slurs, voice raspy as he pulls back to meet your eyes. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

The greedy look in his eyes sends another jolt of pleasure through you, your breath hitching as you cant your hips, seeking your release.

“Poe,” you whine, telling him that you’re close (so close), that you just need a little more— 

He shushes you softly, pressing his forehead against yours, his own hips still rutting lazily against you, and when you come, he kisses you, swallowing your moans.  

The first thing you notice when you come back to yourself is that Poe’s rock-hard cock is digging into your hip. When you open your eyes, he’s watching you, his smile soft, eyes heavy-lidded, still blown wide with lust. 

That’s when you remember where you are. 

Shit.  

Panic slices through you as you wriggle in his hold, trying to push yourself off of the wall (and his thigh). You’re mortified—had anyone seen you? Had they heard? You groan (and not in the pretty way Poe likes), eyes darting around in search of any onlookers. Poe chuckles, nose nudging against yours as he tries to reclaim your attention. 

As you return your attention to your menace of a boyfriend, you can’t seem to stop the laugh that escapes you, clapping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. He laughs too, snorting when you place your other hand over his mouth. You smile at each other as your combined giggles subside, Poe’s eyes crinkling a little by his eyes.  

“Let’s get you to bed, commander,” you say finally, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his neck. 

He nods, a little glassy-eyed as he stares at you with a fondness and affection that makes your stomach flip.  

When you (finally) make it into his room, he attacks you with his lips again, licking into your mouth as his hands clumsily attempt to remove your clothes. He walks backwards, bringing you along with him as he untucks your shirt from your pants. You chuckle as he struggles with your belt, grunting in frustration when he can’t seem to get it unbuckled. He huffs after a moment, abandoning his attempts and slipping beneath your shirt instead.  

Suddenly, he grunts, tripping and falling heavily onto his bed and pulling you right along with him. You laugh softly, pushing yourself up on your forearms to look down at him; his eyes are glazed with want, dark curls splayed across his blanket in a messy halo, eyelids heavy. 

“Slow down, baby,” you whisper, smiling softly as you lean in to kiss him again. 

He melts into the mattress, moaning into your mouth as his hands slide up your back, hips pushing against yours. You grind down onto him slowly, gently, swallowing every sigh and whimper that falls from between his lips. He comes with a choked moan not long after, fingers digging into your skin as his hips stutter against yours. 

You pull back when you feel him sag in relief beneath you, your hands combing through his hair. His eyes are closed, body limp and heavy, and you realize—he fell asleep. You snort, smiling fondly at him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. As you try to slip from his hold though, he tightens his arms around you, murmuring softly for you to stay. 

Unable to deny him anything, you do.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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Hiking vacation with boyfie Sukuna

Pairing: modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Warnings: 18+, lots of fluff and some smut, outdoor sex, praise. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don’t interact. This is super self-indulgent because I am on vacation atm and I can’t stop thinking about Kuna being here with me aaahhhh!!! ♥️

Being on a hiking vacation with your boyfriend Sukuna would include:

+ Holding hands with him the whole time during your hiking tours. Or he has one arm around your waist and his hand in your back pocket.

+ He looks so hot in his muscle shirt and hiking shorts and boots, showing his muscular arms and calves and his sexy tattoos.

+ He is so tall and so strong next to you, making you feel so safe and get butterflies just from looking at him.

+ His sexy smirk when he offers his hand to help you climb over a fallen tree or a slippery rock.

+ When he drinks water out of his bottle, looking so sexy when some droplets run down his chin, and you see his Adam’s apple bop enticingly.

+ He hands you the bottle afterward, always insisting you drink something too, even when you complain because you aren’t thirsty. His satisfied smirk, when you take a sip anyway, making him look so smug that you roll your eyes and have to get on your tiptoes to kiss that grin off him.

+ Sukuna always walks on the side of the hiking trail where the slope is. Swapping places with you by wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you to the other side so he can take the more dangerous path. Making you smile because he is so protective.

+ When he smirks and puts a finger under your chin, and tilts your face up so he can slowly lean closer and kiss you. Making your heart race because you can feel his smile during the kiss, and it’s so sexy.

+ Long, slow tongue kisses while he holds you close.

+ Taking selfies where Sukuna stands behind you, tall and buff, hugging you tightly from behind and winking at the camera while he presses a kiss to your neck.

+ Sukuna laughing about the weird looks he sometimes gets from older people because of his face tattoos.

+ Sukuna giving your hand a gentle squeeze and leaning down to murmur in your ear how happy you make him. Telling you that he used to make fun of people who went hiking with their special someone, calling them boring. But now he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

+ Sukuna being so grateful for you and the life you give him. Thanking you for the way you love him. Being so smitten with how soft you are with him. Telling you in such a tender voice how deeply in love he is with you and that he wants this forever.

+ Strolling through town in the evenings after you return from your hike of the day, looking like the biggest lovebirds when you hold hands and laugh together about all the stupid little jokes you make and the shit-talking Sukuna does about all the other people.

+ Holding hands on the table during your dinner dates and only having eyes for each other. Deep, meaningful glances into each other’s eyes and lots of flirting. Sukuna leaning across the table to kiss you and tease you affectionately about giving him such hearteyes.

+ Riding him on your hotel bed later on, basking in the way he moans beneath you. And when your legs are sore from walking all day, Sukuna helps you ride him, lifting you up and down on his cock while he tells you how good you are for him, watching your face the whole time because he loves seeing how cute you look when you cum on his cock.

+ Going on a two-day hike with him and spending the night in a beautiful meadow in the mountains. Lying on a picnic blanket to watch the night sky, your fingers intertwined with Sukuna’s, your head resting comfortably on his chest.

+ Talking softly to each other and sharing slow kisses that gradually grow more intense.

+ Sukuna rolling on top of you, deepening your kisses and slowly undressing you, covering you with his tall, muscular body to keep you warm even in the chilly night air of the mountains.

+ Your naked bodies moving against each other, lips and tongues caressing as you gasp into each other’s mouths. Sukuna loving you with his hands and lips while you stroke his hard cock, until both of you can’t take it anymore and need more of each other.

+ Making love under the stars. Your hands in Sukuna’s pink hair and your legs around his waist, hearing his low moans against your ear, feeling him roll his hips into you, fucking you so deep and so good that you start crying.

+ Looking up at the stars sparkling in the night sky behind Sukuna’s broad shoulders while he makes slow love to you.

+ When you see a shooting star, your only wish is to always call Sukuna yours, to always be this close to him. And somehow you know at that moment that your wish will come true.

AAAAHHH I AM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM 😭😭💗💗 I was going insane because I couldn’t stop fantasizing about boyfie Kuna going on vacation with me, so I had to write all those thoughts down. I hope you enjoyed them too!!

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be super nice 💗

Take a seat || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: Never in your wildest dream did you imagine having your husband ask you to sit on his face.

Tags: Face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, smut, NOT BETA READ.

Words: 1.2k

saw someone plead for this one lmao. They asked so nicely so I delivered, idk if this is how it usually goes tbh. This shit's so rushed but I guess I have to squeeze everything out before school starts again tomorrow aaaaaaaaaa

other than that, enjoy! Thank you all for your love on my fics aaaaaaaaaa im running out of header pics da;flkhwah

mi vida - my life || dios mio - my god || mi bella esposa - my beautiful wife || cariño - honey

“You want me to do what now?”

Miguel sighed exasperatedly as he facepalmed, embarrassed. “Don’t make me repeat mys—”

“No no no, I heard you loud and clear.” Which doesn’t mean you understand why all of a sudden. “But why?”

“Should I have any reason why I want you to sit on my face?”

In a gazillion universe, you’d never thought you’d hear those words come out of his lips. Sitting on his lap, you stared at the man incredulously to which he scowled at.

Usually, oral between you both are usually done with you underneath him as he pinned your thighs open and wide for him since he likes the control. To hear him ask you to sit on his face mid-foreplay shocked you.

You pinched your thigh, unconvinced by his sudden change of mind and Miguel sighed once more.

“Is it that hard to believe, mi vida? Dios mio, if you don’t want to do it, just say it—”

“No no no, lay back down, I’m just processing.”

Excitement thrummed madly in your veins as you pushed the man back into the mattress. Excitement got you removing your underwear in a second before sitting back on his chest. It’s not fast enough apparently, when his strong arms hook under your legs and pull you directly on top of his lips.

Your breath got stuck into your throat. The mere feeling of his hot breath on your skin caused ripples of heat from your abdomen to your fingertips. You’ve always had orals before, it was something he’d never forget, yet there was something about sitting on top of his face that got you aroused more than ever.

“Go any slower and I would’ve thought you’d want to back out.”

“Not my fault. You’re so impatient.”

“A pretty girl sat on top of me, naked and wet, begging to be devoured. Do you think I’d ignore you, mi bella esposa?”

His dark voice, along with his fogged red eyes staring at you through his eyelash sent shivers down your spine, cheeks flushing beet red. You almost slapped the growing smirk off of his face at your flustered state.

“You’re so annoying.”

“And you smell absolutely delicious.”

His arms locked around your thighs and you immediately knew you were done.

His tongue felt like silk gliding through your folds before rolling your clit in figures of eight. You sighed, throwing your head back as pleasure slithered down your spine at his every exhale fanning your skin. 

There was something about the stings his stubbles brings as it scratches your skin along with the stimulation of his tongue that drive you crazy. 

You swear you’re not a masochist by any means, yet when it comes to Miguel, every joy, sadness, pain and pleasure felt like a reward from the high heavens that you couldn’t help but accept with gratitude.

Your hand found stability in his dark locks, pulling and tugging his head closer to your heat, causing him to groan, the vibration seeping into your bones.

His hands roamed your body as if desperate to find a treasure in the unknown, nails dragging the skin from your back and down to the globes of your ass. The sting they left in their wake stirs your nerves awake, the pain mixing in with pleasure. You sighed, falling to lean on the piles of pillows as you dragged your clit with the point of his tongue.

Miguel wandered lower, tongue rolling around the rim of your entrance, sending electric jolts down your legs. You shivered as the sensation of his fangs rubbing against your folds, always so close yet so far away.

You gasped when the appendage plunged into your entrance, his large nose pushing into your clit as he pulled you closer to his face.

“Fuck…!”

“You taste divine, cariño.” He groaned. “Give me more.”

Bringing his hand down hard onto your ass, you whined. The stinging pain it left had your body singing for more and you knew Miguel was aware of the effect it has on you with how hard you clench on his silky appendage.

“Move.”

“Huh?”

Another sharp slap echoed in the living room, harder than the one earlier and you cried, hips stuttering forward on his flattened tongue.

“Ride me, cariño. Like you’ve always wanted.”

And you swear you’ve never heard anything more romantic than that.

With a smidge of hesitance, fearing you’d suffocate him, you rolled yourself on his tongue, eyes locked onto his darkened ones that dripped with desire. Still unsatisfied, his hand lands another hit on your skin and you move more desperately against him.

You cry as he starts to pick up the pace of his tongue, putting pressure onto your bead and shaking his head aggressively underneath you. He swats you once more when your hips stutter from the stimulation before clawing your flesh and grounding you further into his mouth.

“Harder.”

“I’m trying—Ah!”

Sneaking a hand below, he immediately inserts two digits inside of you. He spared no time hastening the speed of his thrusts while licking enthusiastically onto your clit making your eyes roll back.

Chasing the pleasure his fingers and mouth offered you, your hips rolled uncontrollably against his face. The obscene squelch echoing in the room would have embarrassed you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to flush.

The tight knot in your abdomen tightens as heat explodes from your chest and reaches down the tips of your limbs. You couldn’t do anything but cry as you tether closer to nirvana.

“I-I’m close.”

“Come for me, mi vida. Give it to me. I want it all.”

With his grounding arm reaching up to rake through your back along with his fingers and tongue, the knot unfurls and you come with a cry. 

Suddenly, he had both arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from fluttering away from his ministrations. You gasped and pushed at his head but he paid no heed to them, rolling and shaking his tongue onto your clit as if trying to coax another climax from you.

“Miguel…!”

His nails digging into your flesh was the only answer you received and maybe the tug on his lips at your trembling thighs as well. It didn’t take long before pain started to blur with pleasure and your hips rocked against his tongue despite the protest of your heat with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding on for dear life onto the headboard.

You didn’t have the mind to worry about his nose being blocked by your mon pubis, focused solely on your orgasm. With how he ground your hips onto his lips, you knew he didn’t mind.

And with a weak shout, you unravel, flesh and bones, on top of him. There’s a sound of something breaking in the haze, but paid no heed to it as you fall bonelessly onto the mattress. Miguel pulls away, gasping for air just as you turn to face the ceiling.

Your arousal drenching his face evoked something feral within you, the simmering desire in your stomach stirring awake once more. His eyes turned to the headboard and chuckled, reaching over to run his fingers over the dent with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I guess a Spider-Man will always be a Spider-Man.”

“Oh shut up.” You groaned, chucking a pillow on his face.

Bad Knight, Good Knight

Pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader (feat. Steven Grant)

Summary: Give Marc a certain look and he’ll give you his all. In the condition that you’re gonna be good.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Unprotected and rough p in v penetration, overstimulation, slight D/S dynamics, sir kink, creampie

A/N: I caught up on Moon Knight yesterday and who would’ve thought that it’d be Marc Spector to give me my groove back LMFAO thanks @soldatspet and @bemine-bucky for the push 😘😘😘

MAIN MASTERLIST

“You have got to stop giving me those eyes in the middle of a job.”

You felt Marc trail closely behind you as you both stepped inside the elevator of an old motel. Unable to help yourself from smirking, you bit down on your lip as you turned around.

“What eyes?” You innocently asked, blinking up at Marc while slightly tilting your head to the side.

The soft yet low grunt that Marc made was almost inaudible. He rolled his eyes before towering you, making you walk backwards until you felt the cold wall of the elevator against your bare shoulders.

“Those eyes,” Marc hoarsely whispered as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning your cheek as he teasingly nosed your skin. “…the kind of look you give me when you want to get fucked.” He said, pulling back just to take in your look.

He hasn’t even laid a finger on you and yet your eyes were already so glassy. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you breathed, your mouth parted and lips glistening.

“That what you want?” Marc asked, his tone teasing as he tipped your chin up with his fingers.

You merely nodded, whining softly when you felt Marc’s knee slot in between your legs to tease your mound.

“Want me to fuck this cunt until you’re begging for me to stop?” He asked again, this time moving his knee back and forth to rub at your aching pussy.

Marc didn’t even let you answer because the way you were arching your back against the wall was enough to let him know how much you needed him to use you. He took a step back from you and smirked in amusement when you whined at the loss of contact.

“Tell me you’re gonna be good.” He demanded, voice louder and firmer this time around.

You panted and almost sagged against the wall, your need to feel his cock almost rendering you weak in the knees.

“I’m gonna be good.” You whispered.

Marc snickered, “Louder, princess.”

You groaned, “Gonna be good for you, Marc!” You exclaimed just as when the elevator reached your floor.

A satisfied smile tugged at Marc’s lips as the doors slid open behind him, “As soon as you step out, you’ll only do what I say. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

-

“Is my princess getting tired? Thought you were gonna be good?” Marc asked, the patronizing tone of his voice giving you a new sense of vigor to keep going.

He had already fucked an orgasm out of you as soon as the both of you reached the motel room, but of course, Marc was an overachiever. One climax wasn’t enough for him, he needed more so he sat on a chair and had you straddle him, with your hands tied behind your back.

“‘’m not tired…” you panted, slowly getting your rhythm back as you bounced on his cock

Marc chuckled as he watched you with lidded eyes, so desperate to please him like the good girl you said you were. He licked his lips as he looked at your tits bouncing with every movement.

“You’re gonna have to try harder, princess. I fucked you good earlier, didn’t I? Made your pussy cum so hard it had your eyes rolling back to your head. If you want another reward you’re gonna have to ride my cock better.” He mocked, gripping your neck with both of his large hands to pull you closer for a messy kiss.

You moaned against his mouth, feeling his tongue slip into yours. He kissed you roughly, slightly canting his hips upwards before he completely stilled in his seat again.

“Go on, princess. Ride me harder, you can do it.” He encouraged before letting you go and leaning back against the chair to watch you.

Taking in a sharp inhale, you ignored the way your thighs were burning and sped up your pace. You kept your gaze on Marc as you rode his cock, sometimes sliding back and forth instead of bouncing up and down.

Marc’s face scrunched into pleasure when your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock, parting his mouth to let out a soft grunt.

Moans continued to spill out of you; the girth of his cock stretching your cunt out deliciously. There was a slight sting to it but god, you loved the pain.

And you loved how Marc was looking at you like a predator eyeing his prey.

Sweat trickled down both your bodies, mixing together with your wetness that was pooling at the base of Marc’s cock.

“That’s it, fucking my cock so well. Good girl.” Marc praised, opening his legs wider and pushing your thighs even farther apart.

You keened when you felt the tip of his cock hit your cervix when you slammed down on him, your body trembling at the surge of pleasure that coursed through your veins.

Marc choked out a chuckle, “That hit the spot, princess? Felt your cunt clench around me tightly. Squeezing me so fucking good, getting me all wet from your juices.” He said.

“Marc, please…” you whimpered, feeling that familiar tightness in your abdomen.

“What does my princess want?” Marc asked, brushing your hair away from your face.

You swallowed hard and tried to keep your eyes open, “Touch me, please. Wanna cum so bad.” You moaned, rolling your hips against his harder and faster— needier.

Marc hummed before cupping your face with one hand and holding your waist with the other. He held back from touching you that when you felt the roughness of his palm against your skin, you almost felt like your entire body was burning.

“Need my help to get you off, huh? Can’t cum without me touching you?” Marc teased again, running his thumb along your lower lip.

You nodded, “Yes, sir. Please, please. Need you to touch me, need you to make me cum.” You sputtered out your words.

Marc grunted and shoved two of his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck on them before he reached down between your bodies to rub on your bundle of nerves.

The action made you moan out loud and your legs quiver from the pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes as you neared your release.

Marc knew your body perfectly, he knew the little cues it would give each time you were about to explode. He firmly planted his feet on the ground and gripped your waist tighter before finally thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

The pleasure from Marc’s cock fucking into you and his fingers rubbing at your clit was overwhelmingly good, so good that made your entire body tremble as you finally came.

A silent scream left your mouth, your nails digging into the palms as you tried to hold onto something but to no avail. The restraints had already left marks on your wrists but you couldn’t care less because you were too focused on how his cock kept on fucking into you to prolong your orgasm.

Tears tainted your cheeks as you went limp and fell against Marc’s sweaty chest, your body jolting from aftershocks as his cock slowed down from slipping in and out of your abused cunt.

You might have lost your consciousness because when you opened your eyes, your wrists were no longer tied behind you and Marc was soothingly rubbing your back while whispering praises into your ear.

“You back?” He laughed as you straightened up to look at him.

His face was red sweaty, with some of his curls sticking onto his damp forehead. You breathily chuckled as you kissed him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“You still gonna be good for me?” Marc whispered against your mouth as he stood up from the chair, hoisting you up with him.

You squealed at this sudden movement, feeling his hard cock continue to throb inside of your swollen pussy.

“I asked you a question, princess. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Marc warned as he walked to the bed.

You nodded and kissed him again, “Yes, sir.” You responded.

“Good.” Marc said and wordlessly dropped you on the bed, manhandling you and roughly turning you around before kneeling behind you.

He lifted your ass up and pressed down on your nape, pushing your face against the mattress as he slid his cock back inside of you with no prior warning.

You cried out at the friction, your pussy absolutely overstimulated and begging to breathe. But you’d do anything for Marc Spector, so you took in every thrust no matter how abused your cunt felt.

His grunts and groans filled the air as he fucked you to his liking, landing a spank on your ass every now and then. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, your toes curling from the tension slowly pooling in your abdomen yet again.

Two climaxes in and yet your body was begging for more despite the exhaustion.

“God, your pussy’s so fucking tight. So fucking greedy for my cock, aren’t you?” Marc said, thumbing your puckered hole.

“Mhmm!” You hummed, arching your back even deeper.

Marc slapped your ass again before squeezing it playfully, “Could feel you getting close again, can you cum again for me?” He asked, gripping your waist tightly.

You nodded as you drooled on the sheets; your eyelids fluttered as you neared your third orgasm, you were already incoherent and babbling— just the way Marc wanted.

He loved it when he’d fuck you dumb like this. You were so helpless and so willing to surrender everything to him.

Marc lifted his knee up and planted his foot on the bed to find a better angle before he fucked you relentlessly, barely pulling his cock out of your cunt.

You cried his name out like a prayer, cumming hard after one particular thrust that had you seeing stars. Marc groaned out loud when your pussy clenched around his cock, pushing him to his own orgasm.

Marc bent down to press kisses along your spine as he spilled inside of you, his warm release filling you up to the brim.

His sweaty chest was pressed against your back as he pressed a kiss behind your ear, “Did so good for me, princess.” He whispered, allowing your pussy’s contractions to milk his cock until the last drop.

“Hold it in for me?” He whispered as he straightened his back, pulling his softening cock out from your pussy.

Following Marc’s instruction, you clenched hard to keep all of his release inside of you as you caught your breath. Keeping your ass up in the air, you sighed in comfort when Marc started caressing your ass.

“Let go, princess.” He said.

You relaxed your entire body and allowed Marc’s cum to spill out of your cunt. You whined at the feeling of it dripping down the insides of your thighs.

“Beautiful.” Marc praised, landing a gentle spank on your ass as he watched his release continue to drip out of your puffy pussy.

He licked his lips and gently helped you lay down on your back. He crawled over you and smiled proudly, “God, you’re gorgeous. You satisfied now?” He teased, pressing the tip of his nose against yours.

You chuckled and forced your eyes to open despite the exhaustion, “Hmm yeah. Thank you, sir.” You whispered, slowly feeling yourself doze off.

You still heard Marc praising you, making you smile before you completely succumbed to sleep.

-

The shaking of the floor and the loud noise of the tracks as a train passed by woke you up. You were still slightly annoyed that the motel Marc chose to laylow in was near the railway. However, memories from the previous day quickly changed your mood despite the noise.

Your body was sore all over, especially in between your legs. Shifting on the bed, you realized that you were in one of Marc’s shirts already. He must have helped you clean up last night while you were dead asleep.

Smiling, you turned to the other side and was met with Marc’s face, peacefully asleep. Carefully, you reached over to fix a stray curl away from his face.

Marc stirred and scrunched his nose making you laugh, “‘’m sorry, did I wake you?” You softly asked when he opened his eyes.

His eyes met your eyes and it didn’t take him more than a second to let out a scream as he jolted out of bed. You panicked and jumped out as well, asking Marc what was wrong.

“Who are you?! Where am I?!” Marc exclaimed fearfully, eyes wide and seemingly disoriented.

His accent changed too.

“Calm down, Marc. It’s just me.” You coaxed.

Marc’s shocked expression was immediately replaced by that of worry. His shoulders visibly relax as he sat back down on the bed, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Oh no, oh no.” He murmured to himself, “Not again.” He added before realizing that he was merely clad in a pair of boxers.

Marc hurriedly covered himself up with the blanket. His sudden change of demeanor made you realize what was going on.

You cautiously approached the bed and sat down, allowing some space in between the two of you.

“This shouldn’t have happened.” Marc continued to talk to himself.

Steven, rather.

“It’s okay, Steven.” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Steven turned to you quickly, “You…you know me?” He asked incredulously.

You nodded, “Steven Grant.” You said.

“Marc told you…about me?” He asked again, still unable to believe.

“He mentioned you a couple of times. Steven…with a V.” You explained.

You’d known about Steven for quite a while now, it was something that Marc thought he needed you to know. With the kind of relationship you two had, it was important that you knew about these things.

It left you quite confused at first and to be honest, you didn’t understand Marc’s situation. He was patient enough to explain everything to you and after a while, you felt like you already knew Steven.

Now that you finally met him, it felt surreal but nothing’s really changed with how you felt about Steven’s existence— he really was a lovely lad.

Steven let out a sigh, “I must apologize, I must have frightened you.” He said, finally calming down.

You laughed and shook your head, “It’s alright. I figured I’d meet you one day, just didn’t expect it’d be right after…” you trailed, feeling your face heat up.

Steven was quick to understand what you meant and felt just as awkward. There was a pause for a brief moment before he cleared his throat.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you—“ he trailed, squinting as if he was recalling whether Marc had told him your name.

You quickly introduced yourself and extended your arm for a handshake, “It’s nice to finally meet you.” You said.

Steven glanced down at your hand and noticed the marks on your wrists, “Oh my, you’re hurt.” He worriedly said, mindlessly taking your arm to take a close look at it.

You felt your body heat up even more, “No, don’t worry. Those are…” you said, figuring out how to tell Steven where those marks came from.

“Marc and I…last night…” you stammered.

You saw the embarrassment in Steven’s eyes the very moment he caught your drift, “Ohhh, oh. Must have been a fun night.” He said and immediately regretted his cheeky remark.

You laughed and nodded, “It was indeed a fun night.” You affirmed.

The awkward atmosphere turned lighter thankfully. Steven glanced at you again, “Did Marc…take good care of you after?” He carefully asked.

Your eyes softened up as you looked at Steven. You smiled and nodded, “He did. Thank you for asking, Steven. He did leave me quite hungry though.” You admitted.

Steven chuckled, “Well then, I should get Marc back.” He said, preparing to stand up until you stopped him.

“Why don’t we get breakfast together, Steven with a V?” You asked with amusement.

“Marc did tell me that I’d have to get to know you at one point. Perhaps we can do that over coffee?” You hopefully asked.

You could see the gears in Steven’s head turning before he looked down and scratched at his neck, “I’m not sure Marc would like that.” He said.

Smiling, you stood up and grabbed his shirt on the floor before handing it over to him.

“Marc was right about you, Steven with a V. You worry too much.” You said with a slight chuckle, “I’m absolutely sure he wouldn’t mind.”