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faetreides · 8 days

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summary: priest!leto x afab!reader x priest!paul (title from scorpio by pour vous)

cw: blasphemy if i’m being so real, spit roasting, reader is lowkey losing it but they’ll be okay, dubcon, pwp-ish (there’s set up but it’s not that long imo), mention of paul being into predator/prey, daddy kink coded without the actual daddy kink, horror elements, unreliable narrator vibes, mention of them being willing to non con reader if things didn’t go their way, no incest between leto & paul 💀, reader’s their sad loser turned attic spouse, mention of eventual impreg, implied soft dom!leto & mean dom!paul, religious practice inaccuracies, possibly predictable plot twists, implied painful anal but reader’s too out of it to feel it, implied natural aphrodisiac in their spit, reader bleeds

wc: 2.5k

block & move on if uncomfortable,

do not translate/repost/give my works to ai

please consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !!

You’ve been feeling… lost. The trees keep secrets from you and the clouds mix together like egg whites. You wish you knew what kind of pill you need to be on, you wish you knew what was wrong with you. You’re paranoid and seeing blank eyes watching you through the brick and mortar of your apartment. Your skin burns hotter than hell and sometimes you think that there are claws grabbing at your ankles when you sleep.

Church hasn’t been something you’ve bothered to attend since you were a kid, but you yearn for it now.

You pull your tattered coat around yourself as you step into the ancient building. The Church of Caladan is the oldest church in the country, if not the world. You hope you don’t look silly when you take caution with how hard your feet hit the stone. ‘You break it, you buy it’ must apply to old churches too.

Your unease rolls off you in waves, and a couple nearby priests seem to sense it in the same way that horses can sense fear. For a second you imagine bursting into flames, but there are hands groping your flesh through the great hellfire.

They’re about even in height, though one is clearly older. The gray hair weaved into his temples suits him more than it shows his age. The younger man has the same dark and wavy hair, but his gaze is a touch more haggard and rife with burden.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have burst in here…. I'm just looking around.” You rush to explain so they would go away, internally cringing at yourself.

“No, we want newcomers to feel comfortable enough to ask questions. I’m Leto,” He says and shakes your hand. “And this is my son, Paul. He’s recently started working here at the church with me.”

Paul steps up to shake your head as well, his mouth doesn’t move but you swear that the corners twitch. The stained glass windows cast a multicolored hue on his eyes and you find yourself lost in the swirling pools of light. Then black holes swallow the brightness in the irises, cosmic cannibalism.

You blink in alarm and awkwardly take a step back from the two priests. Father and son share a look between them that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing them.

Leto clears his throat and pointedly grabs your hands in both of his, encapsulating them in his warmth.

“You’ll have to forgive him, Paul’s never dealt with a lamb as darling as you before. He’s never dealt with one at all actually, you two can go through this together.”

Paul smiles but it fits all wrong, with teeth that should be fangs and with a tongue that appears forked. You blink again and all is well, the man before you fits his human skin like a glove. Maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt, you’re convinced you’re going crazy anyway and Priests would never be capable of hurting someone. Ghosts aren’t real and Demons are just a crazed mother’s bedtime story.

“Um, okay. Thank you for accepting me.” That’s all you want, deep down, and they know that. “I felt moved to be here, I can’t explain it.”

Leto nods and Paul rubs your shoulder in sympathy. They would hiss that they know full well what called you here, but you might bleat and scurry away. You make a sad picture, abandoned and half insane, but that’s what they are for. To soothe and to serve you, to purify you from the inside out.

“Then all the more reason to stay and sit for a moment, don’t you think?” Paul finally speaks, the boyish tone surprising you.

“Paul’s right, let’s get this jacket off you, poor lamb. You must be freezing to death.” Leto coos, shushing your protests and carefully pulling the cheap thing off of you.

They take you on a little tour of sorts, pointing out the architectural details of the building itself as well as passionately delving into its history. Centuries of worship and service to the community, strangely never having sustained any kind of property damage. The priests speak of the church as if they were wandering through the halls all this time, and they chuckle when they tease you about how relieved they were that you didn’t suffer from a nosebleed. They’re quite common apparently.

“I think that should do it, i’d hate to think that we’ve been talking your ear off, dear.” Leto says, rubbing the inside of your wrist and directing you towards the large piano on the stage at the front of the church.

He must notice the sudden spark in your eyes at the sight, because his crow’s feet wrinkles deepen as he pulls the black piano bench out. Leto’s palm spreads out wide and he gives the leather seat a firm pat, signaling for you to sit down. Butterflies swirl in your stomach with anxiety but you feel too shy to refuse the clearly eager offer. You take a seat in front of an onyx grand piano far grander than you’re used to seeing in a church.

Leto soon occupies the space next to you. The bench is small enough that your thigh is pressing against his, warmth bleeds through your clothes and the indication of muscle really makes you wish you were alone in your room with a rose toy. You place your fingers on the pristinely polished keys and clumsily play some hodgepodge of a melody that you remember from your childhood. A mix of tchaikovsky and children's church songs.

You jump and play the wrong note when you feel thick fingers slide up your thigh. Your cheeks burn with heat but you focus on the music. Leto sighs with sugary sweet satisfaction but doesn’t move his fingers any further. He also doesn’t try to play, it’s almost like he only wants to bask in the domesticity of watching you perform. You think you hear him whisper “That’s it, who knew such a talented lamb would be gracing our doorstep?”

You get a flash of riding him on the piano, gasping into his hair chest when it breaks under the weight of your passion. Thin fingers come from behind to caress your ass as it moves, much colder than the cock you’re bouncing on. Then it fades away, and you’re back to making a fool of yourself with your little song.

Paul watches from the pulpit, eyes drinking in the way your curves expand and move as you squirm. His grip tightens on the bright wood but you’re none the wiser. You almost forget that he’s even there, something which he realizes because he strolls to stand behind you and his father. The music stops once you feel his breath on your neck and he bends down to tenderly pull your hair off of your shoulder, getting himself acquainted with the texture as he rubs his fingertips down the strands.

A distant voice calls out for Leto and he stands, smiling apologetically and thanking you for the performance. You feel adrift as you watch him walk away, reminding yourself that a man like him has other things to do than coddle you.

Paul slides a hand down your back and guides you down to the pew right up front, with a view of center stage, sitting right beside you with a wink. Once Leto returns, you spot the silver tray of communion wafers in his hands. The tray is set on the pulpit by his side.

The older man's eyes darken as he puts one in his mouth, and your brain shuts down when he snatches your face in his rough palms and kisses you sense no less. The wafer cracks as his tongue passes it into your mouth, the salty crumbs oddly making you crave something even saltier. There’s a sticky sweet sensation traveling through your body as you exchange saliva with him, your brain feels so foggy.

You break away, curling your hands into the collar of Leto’s uniform.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Your voice is small and not completely filled with disgust, you’re honestly too desperate for some form of human contact to make good decisions.

“We’re helping you, honey.” Leto purrs into the seam of your mouth, shaking his head in apparent fondness.

You’re too cute for your own good, at least they don’t have to worry about covering their tracks. Any incubus or succubus would be glad to get a hold of someone as lonely as you, but they wouldn’t love you like you deserve. You haven’t been watched by anyone as long as you’ve been watched by them. He hopes that Paul doesn’t shove his foot in his mouth and let it slip that he wished you gave them the opportunity to take you by force. His son carries a torch for a bit of predator and prey action, he likes playing with his food too much. You’re different from the scrambling mice that get torn to bits, though, you’re forever.

Plus, if you don’t get it now, he has no problems with explaining everything when you’re too weak to get up and try to run away.

Paul buries his face in your neck, spilling the vial of wine he had in his pocket down your shirt. It soaks the tank top underneath and though you try with all your might to wriggle away, the desire to resist gets brushed away under a heavy fog.

It’s nice to be touched, to be wanted after a lifetime of feeling the exact opposite. Perhaps this is why the lord guided you to his grandest home, so you could take his prophets into your body.

The black vanishes from Paul’s eyes and you sink against his chest, making out with his father as your eyes roll back into your head.

No words are uttered verbally as Paul shuffles to the side and pulls you to lie back on the pew’s cushion. Leto deprives you of his tongue and gives you a chance to breathe, which both men do with you in sync, resting their foreheads against you.

The nectar on your tongue tastes divine, little lamb, a voice whispers in your mind.

Let us give you purpose so you no longer need to roam, another begs.

You’re crying from the relief of having your mouth filled, Paul tilts your head up by your chin as he slowly slides his cock into your mouth. The ridges and bumps of what feels like piercings sends a jolt of arousal through you.

“Fuck-” He hisses and rubs your neck, watching you adjust to the stretch. “So warm-”

Leto tuts and clamps his hands around your hips, you’re already too fucked out to register sharp black claws taking care of your clothes. Leaving you bare. A shiver passes through your body as he drags his huge hand down to your pussy, being mindful not to accidentally scratch you. He intends for there to be no blood, this time, not a lot.

You gag on Paul’s length when Leto slams your hips against his pelvis, grinding not one but two large cocks against your cunt. If you were looking at his face, you’d see pitch black eyes and intimidating fangs, but all you can focus on is the hazy candle light and what must be someone playing an organ.

You catch a view of one of the stained class windows, a pair of angels cradling a lamb. It’s the only damaged part of the church, with cracks running along the angel’s wings. You’d think it’s a sneeze away from shattering entirely. Your view of it is blurred by Paul’s quick thrusts, gagging on it again. Drools drip onto the red carpet.

Leto grabs one of Paul’s curled horns and yanks his head to the side, scolding at him to be nicer to you. You’ve clearly never taken three cocks inside you, the one you’re servicing is proving to be overwhelming enough. Again, Paul’s new to this experience as well, just in a different way than you are. In a sense, it’s like he was born yesterday. The older man relays this to you through your choked moans and tears, assuring you that he’s taught Paul how to clean up his messes and be grateful. Something like this will be no different.

“Hush, beloved. I would have gladly speared your mouth but you would be dead before I could cum inside it.”

You see God in the sky when Leto slaps the tapered tip of one of his dicks against your slick entrance, God sees you when he gets the tight walls of ass to wrap around the other. Unbeknownst to you, it’s funny how so many things are, your blood pools around his balls. You’re in pain sure but you’ve never felt as much pleasure as you have in this instance. Both “Priests” smell your blood and well, only your body can tell the rest of the story. Later you’ll wake up to find that the building around you has ruby walls and it seems to be breathing. The shooting pain in your left hand is the result of two iron rings being chiseled into the bone of your ring finger.

The four leathery wings protruding from your back, with spikes poking out from the joints, are waiting to be discovered. As are the nubs sprouting out of your hair.

For now beads of sweat highlight your bouncing tits, Paul gropes one and Leto runs the edge of his claw along the side of the other. They’re hissing words that string together and disappear in the blink of an eye, voices slurred and sticky. Their babbling stops and starts again as you reflexively swallow around Paul’s cock when he skull fucks you without warning. They laugh too, but you can at least pretend that Leto’s tone is kinder.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough teasing.”

“But father-“

“I said no. And don’t think for a second that you’re getting anything else but their mouth.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You lack self control, it wouldn’t be suitable for conception to occur like this. As delectable as their quivering cunt is, demons shouldn’t abstain from courting.”

“You’re saying that as you’re balls deep inside of them.”

“Don’t start with me, Paul.”

All while you’re making gurgling sounds in between the younger priest’s thighs. You hear growls that sound like a mountain lion’s emitting from both men, and the heavy thumps of something flapping in the air gets you holes clenching around Leto. Both men feverishly scratch up and down your limp body, but you’re so enraptured by the chorus of angels happening outside. You have no sense of time, it’s minutes or it’s hours before their cum spills inside of you. There’s too much to possibly keep it all inside, a good amount of it leaks from your cunt and your throat. Leto feels like Christ incarnate when you squirt all over him and yourself with the dumbest expression on your face. Multicolored pieces of glass fall down around you with the loud chime of an invisible bell.

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faretheeoscar · 2 months

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Oscar and Tim reunited for Frankenstein shooting in Toronto!

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #I can’t keep up with all this sightings of him #he looks so beautiful #I’m crying #thanks universe for feeding us and giving us peepaw content everyday

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romana-after-dark · 5 months

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Dead Dove December

Hello everyone! This December I’m hosting an event for the Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal fandom that I’m calling, Dead Dove December! From 12/01/2023 - 12/31/2023 I’m encouraging others to create something that expresses their deepest and (most importantly) darkest desires. I will be reblogging all pieces of art or fanfiction, and will post a masterlist in January.

Details below the cut…

What is Dead Dove Do Not Eat?

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins in one of my comfort shows!

The phrase comes from a meme referencing the 2003 Arrested Development episode "Top Banana", in which Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org

In short, what you see in the tags is what you should expect to see in the fic. This can apply for any type of fic, including the fluffy ones, but it’s usually associated with darker themes. That being said, this is your warning that this is a DARK THEMED EVENT. If you aren’t comfortable with darker topics like non-con, excessive violence, blood/gore, death, toxic relationships, 18+ age gaps, and more, then I encourage you not to participate in this event.

How to Participate

For the month of December, post your Dead Dove fanfiction or fan art on your blog. Use the tag #deaddovedecemeber2023 and tag me. You can also send a link via ask or DM if you like! I will not be posting anything for you, just reblogging and linking. At the end of December I will post a masterlist with links to everyone’s works! Side Note - Since Tumblr doesn’t really allow for NSFW art, you can post your work on Twitter or any other site that allows it and just send me that link so I can add it to the masterlist.

Rules

You MUST be 18+ to participate. I will be checking your blog/social media to be sure. Please make sure your age is easy to find. If I find that you’re a minor or if your age isn’t readily present I will be blocking you and you will be unable to participate. You can just add that you are over 18 if you don’t want your age out on the internet. As the creator and promotor of this event, I need to know I’m not interacting with minors given the nature of this event.

The work MUST be dark in some way. There’s no limit to how dark your work needs to be or can be, but it needs to contain some sort of dark theme in order to qualify. If non con isn’t your thing, dub con via stockholm syndrome or brainwash can let you write a more comfortable scene while still remaining dark. Fics and art do not necessarily need to be NSFW.

Do NOT post anything before 12/01/2023. I will not count submissions prior to that date or after 12/31/2023. Masterlsit will be posted in January.

Your work MUST contain the proper tags. I won’t police how detailed your tags should be, but, for instance, if your work contains non-con, and you didn’t tag non-con then your work will not qualify. Please be inclusive in your writing where you can.

You may submit no more than two (2) pieces. This can include a fanfic and fanart, two fanfics or two fanarts. This is to allow someone to write a piece and make a work of art to accompany it.

I’m not going to yuck someone’s yum, but there are some things I’m just personally not comfortable with and since I’ll be reading/viewing all of these, I have a few things not allowed in the event. The list of what’s NOT allowed is shorter than the list of what IS allowed so here’s a list of the things that will NOT be tolerated in this event:

No underage/aged up minor content - To clarify, this includes things popular ships like - TLOU 1 or Show Ellie x Joel or Miguel O’Hara X Gwen Stacy. No "ageing up" minors for the purpose of a fic.

No Bestiality - To clarify, monsterfucking does NOT count as bestiality (at least to me). For example, werewolves, venom, Khonshu, e.t.c. are all allowed.

No incest - To clarify, step-sibling/step-parent relationships are permitted as long as everyone is 18+. Selfcest relationships are also allowed (like Moon Knight or Miguel with his alternate self, e.t.c.).

If you’re unsure if something is allowed or not, you can send me a DM or an ask for clarification prior to posting.

You can use any prompts you want or none, you aren’t tied to any one idea but here are some to get the ideas flowing if you need them!

Also, you can absolutely use a fic to inspire your art, or art to inspire a fic! Your inspiration piece, whether yours or someone else’s does not have to be from December, but you MUST obtain permission from the original creator before I promote your work. Most creators are happy when their work inspires others, and all my fics are open to being used for inspiration, but please reach out to the creator first.

I’m very excited! I’ve never done anything like this before so things may be updated as I go so bear with me! Looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!

Dividers and header made by the amazing @melodygatesauthor

Please consider reblogging to spread the word!

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radiodeerr · 3 months

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one day we will see him properly … one day…..

(also yes i am hyperfixating on moonknight again and can’t shut up about it)

#need more jake lockley content in my life #moon knight #renew s2 so i can see him ☹️☹️#jake lockley #moonknight #IM NOT GOING TO SHUT UP ABOUT MOONKNIGHT UNTIL WE GET S2 #i have brainrot #oscar isaac

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dancelikechangbin · 2 years

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Baby, seasons change…

#moon knight content for all the people who followed me for it #steven grant #moon knight #oscar isaac

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polktd · 11 months

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i feel like we all collectively forgot steven grant wears glasses to read and i would just like to remind everyone he does indeed do that

#MORE GLASSES CONTENT WITH THE BOY #rewatching moon knight made me go insane. i love this show sm. i wanna kiss oscar isaac so bad. silly man.#it's important to me as a wearer of glasses we are reaquainted with this fact #also i love steven sm but he has grampa glasses but also he is just generally grampacore (imo)#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #mr knight

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strsburn · 2 years

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every little thing | jonathan levy (18+)

pairing - jonathan levy x fem reader

synopsis - in which hearts are mended

see also - when two broken people meet and find that their sharp edges connect

warnings - this fic will contain sexual content at one point so

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ CONTENT

notes - i am in love with oscar isaac your honor. i watched scenes from a marriage and honestly i think mira was very toxic and manipulative and honestly if jonathan was given a proper chance to heal and move on, i feel like his character would have developed more. that being said, i am ignoring how episode five ended and writing this x

tagging ( my favs ) @wint3r-h3art @tmholland @buckybleu @tom-whore-dleston @crazycookiecrumbles

@giona45-5

"This isn't working anymore." Your fork clattered as your hand went limp from shock, the sound that would normally cause you to wince fading to the back burner of your mind as you stared at your boyfriend in shock.

"W-what do you mean?" You cursed yourself mentally as the last word came out in a choked whisper, your emotions rising to the surface. Dean sighed, chewing on a pasta noodle thoughtfully as he waved his fork around nonchalantly.

"Look, it was fun in the beginning. You know, going out, holding hands, yada-yada, but," he paused to put his fork down, a hand coming to rest on his abdomen as he leaned back to shrug at you carelessly "You're too boring, alright. You don't like to go to parties, you like to stay in and read, you never want to try anything new in bed, honestly, how long did you think this could go on for?"

You can only stare, your cheeks flushing with humiliation as all your insecurities are laid out before you. Dean sighs at your silence, standing up as he pushes his chair in and folds his used napkin over his plate. He comes over to your side and lays a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly what once felt like a show of affection was now a branded mark of condescension.

"Dinner was good babe, no hard feelings right? Don't worry about my stuff, Josh will come to pick it up next week. Alright, later." In the blink of an eye, he's gone and you're left in silence, your shared apartment suddenly feeling too big.

๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

The breeze is a welcome sensation on your heated skin as you relax on the park bench.

It's been two weeks since your cruel and abrupt breakup and you were still reeling from the grief of it all, opting for more time spent at the park to escape the haunting reality.

You looked up as your heard shuffling footsteps, your eyes stopping on a little girl no older than nine who was wondering around without a care in the world.

You waited to see if an adult would come along who was accompanying her but when she remained alone and unsupervised you grew concerned. A park was the perfect place for a kid to be snatched up and you would not be one to turn a blind eye.

Smoothing down your skirt, you stood from the bench and approached slowly not wanting to scare the girl or be seen as a threat.

"Hello." You greeted her. She paused to see who addressed her before offering a bright grin that sent your heart melting.

"Hi." She giggled. You looked around once more to see if anyone had come searching for their daughter before you spoke once again.

"What are you doing out here by yourself kiddo? Where's your mom or dad?" At your question her shoulders seemed to sag slightly as she sighed.

"Well, my mom isn't here but my dad is. I was supposed to stay in his sight but he had to take a phone call real quick, I waited until his back was turned to explore and now I'm lost."

You had to bite back a laugh as she made hand motions with her explanation her lips set in a dramatic pout.

"Alright, well, maybe you can tell me what your dad looks like and we can try and find him okay?" You asked.

She squinted her eyes in thought as she looked at you with playful suspicious.

"My dad said I shouldn't talk to strangers." She retorted. You nodded in understanding, even as you thought it was a false cause considering she had already given you more information than a simple name would do.

You gave her your name before holding a hand out as she shook it firmly.

"My name is Ava." She quickly began to give you a rough description of her dad. Tall, wearing glasses, curly hair and an itchy beard. Very vague but enough to work with.

You held her hand as you both searched for the man who matched the description. As you moved along you suddenly heard faint shouting as a panicked voice echoed in the shrubs.

"Ava! God, where are you?! Ava!"

Ava perked up at her name and you turned around as who you perceived to be her dad came running up. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your jaw from dropping as the single most handsome man you had ever seen stepped into view.

Dark curls decorated with hints of grey lay atop his head, his chin sporting a matching thick beard, equally dark brown eyes framed by gold wired glasses and an outfit of corduroy pants and a button up seemed to polish off the english professor look.

Relief coated his features as he spotted Ava, her hand letting go of yours as she ran to meet him with a hug. You watched in silence as he held her close, pulling back as worried frown replaced his relieved smile.

"You know better than to take off like that Ava, god something could have happened to you." He pulled her back into a hug as she murmured apologies.

It was then he seemed to notice you as he quickly stood up, taking his daughter's hand.

"Thank you for keeping her safe." He smiled, his whole face lighting up with the gesture. You could easily see where his daughter had gotten the smile.

"It was no worries at all, I was happy to help." You nodded as he offered a hand.

"I'm Jonathan, Jonathan Levy. Can I buy you a cup of a coffee as a thank you?" He reached for his pocket as if looking for his wallet and you waved your hands out, abashed.

"No that's okay! That's not necessary." You told him.

He smirked then, rubbing a hand over his beard as he adjusted his glasses and you felt butterflies flit around your stomach nervously.

"Alright well, then can I buy you a coffee just to see you again?"

You were a goner.

⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Your first date went great, Jonathan and you seemed to click just like that and while you were admittedly worried that he was married due to the presence of his daughter he was swift to assure you that he had been divorced for a while now.

He proceeded to open up about his failed marriage and even discussed a time in his life where he had grown so callous with his relationships that he had married again out of necessity rather than desire when a one night stand resulted in a pregnancy. He admitted that through this time he had openly cheated on his wife with his ex, nonchalant about if he was caught or not.

While his honesty was appreciated you were hesitant about starting a relationship due to his previous relationships and the failure of your own, and you divulged that.

Jonathan understood your worries and the two of you discussed a trial run, where you two would start off with small dates to see where things led off and most importantly that you both would be open to communication about anything and everything.

Which led to now.

"Are you serious? He actually said that?" Jonathan asked in disbelief, eyebrows raising so high they disappeared into his curls.

You nodded as you sipped your chai latte, the taste earning a pleased hum as you took another sip before placing the cup down.

"Yup, I was so shocked I just sat there as he proceeded to thank me for the dinner and hightail it out of there." You shook your head.

You and Jonathan had been discussing your traumatic past relationships and how they went down and instead of causing the mood to sour it helped strengthen the bond between you two as you both understood what it meant to move on from those painful events.

"That's such a fucking shitty move." Jonathan chuckled as he took a sip of his black coffee. He proceeded to adjust his glasses and you had to bite back a smile which he noticed.

"What?" He laughed nervously not knowing if you were poking fun at him.

"Nothing, I just laugh when you do that. It's cute." You told him, motioning to how he adjusted his glasses.

His eyebrows furrowed and you were worried that you'd somehow made him subconscious or upset but he looked up at you with soft eyes and a bright smile as he admitted

"That's actually really sweet, I've got a lot of quirks and things I do out of nervousness or habit and Mira always found them annoying or would laugh about it. You just embrace it, thank you." He told you, picking up your hand to lay a gentle kiss across your knuckles and you felt your heartbeat skip.

You hoped these trial runs worked out because you didnt know if you could handle the heartbreak of having to let this man go.

⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Six months had passed since your trial run had ended and you found yourself in a steady relationship with Jonathan.

You both had grown closer since being so open with one another and any fights you both had were resolved easily once you gave each other some space and then talked it out.

Ava loved you and you returned the sentiment and you even got to meet Ethan and Jane who would come over on the occasional holiday or birthday. Things were still tense with Jonathan and his former wife but they remained civil especially when dropping off or picking up their son. Ethan had declared he liked you after you had gotten him a baby yoda toy after his favorite movie character.

You still had yet to meet Mira who would come to pick up or drop off Ava while you were at work. Jonathan had asked if you would rather be there when she came but you reassured him that you trusted him to be alone with her and he had looked at you with such adoration in his eyes you had to look away as heat rushed to your cheeks.

The two of you had yet to say the big L word but you were not worried as you knew you both shared the same history when it came to that aspect of a relationship.

When it came down to it you knew full heartedly that you were in love with Jonathan and every little thing about him. Every flaw and imperfection only made you more crazy for him.

"Hey babe?" His voice brought you out of your reverie and you looked up from the pages of your novel to his worried face.

"Yeah, love." You replied closing your book and putting it aside to show him he had your full undivided attention.

He smiled at that, recognizing the show of respect and held his phone up.

"Mira wants to know about picking Ava up for the whole weekend, she wants to treat her to a girls day." You smiled at the fact he was involving you in such a decision and recognized that at the same time he wanted to be sure you would be comfortable as this would be the first time you would be meeting Mira.

"Of course that's alright. Thank you for asking first baby, tell her she's welcome to stay for dinner as well. I'm making chicken tortellini." You grinned as he punched the air in celebration at the mention of your cooking and nodded his head dutifull, sending the text out.

"Great, now come here. I need some quality Jonathan time." You held your arms out and he obliged as he laid his head down on your lap.

"God, I love you." He moaned when your fingers scraped softly against his scalp and you felt him tense as he realized what he just said. You pulled back to look at him as he avoided your gaze, your eyes softening as you recognized the doubt rising to the surface.

"Jonathan can you look at me please?" You asked softly as he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze.

When he met your eyes, you brought your hand up to brush a curl away from his face, stroking his cheek with care as he leaned into the touch.

"I love you so much, Jonathan. I know it seems soon to say such but there is no other way to describe how deeply I feel for you. I love every little thing about you. The way you rest your chin into your palm when you're sleepy but want to hear what someone has to say, or when you get nervous and fidget with your glasses. The way you listen to soothing nature sounds when you can't fall asleep. How frustrated you get when you have a lecture and forget your notes, every little thing you doubt about yourself or don't like, I love about you because it makes you you. I wouldn't have you any other way."

You watch as his eyes fill up with tears and you catch them with your thumb wiping them away as he sits up to pull you into a kiss.

⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Meeting Mira had been an interesting experience. You could tell she disliked you simply for the fact that you were with Jonathan and the control she once had on him was no longer in tact.

It didn't help that her daughter was smitten with you as was his son and ex wife who got along well with you. The cherry on the top of the cake was the fact that Jonathan was so deeply in love with you that any thoughts he once had of being with Mira were long gone.

You had seen the frustration in her eyes when she tried to flirt with him in front of you and instead of growing angry you only calmly asked that she keep that behavior for someone who wanted it, which was proven true as Jonathan had put an end to her advances by removing her arms or deflecting her remarks.

She had quickly left after that, angrily grabbing Ava's bags to bring to the car as you calmly assured Ava that she wasn't at fault. You made sure to kiss and hug her goodbye as you gave her your number so she could call anytime she wanted.

The two had left after that and you and Jonathan had retired to the living room where you were leisurely sipping on wine.

"That wasn't a complete disaster." Jonathan remarked and you laughed as you set your wine glass down, your boyfriend mimicking you as he turned to face you.

You leaned into him, the two of you kissing softly as you both began to explore one another, your hands running up and down his arms as his grazed your thighs and waist.

He pulled you onto his lap as you panted into his mouth, grabbing onto his curls with force and causing a whine to escape him.

Your panties instantly dampened at the sound and you began to grind on his length through the thin fabric separating you.

"Fuck." He let out when you bucked your hips into him, the contact making his cock jump through his jeans.

He lifted you up and placed you on the couch as he kneeled before you, slowly sliding your skirt down and your panties with it.

He lifted your leg to rest on the couch, opening you up for him as he blew on your pussy, the cold air causing you to clench around on nothing as you whined.

He used his index finger to circle your clit as he pulled your lips apart and kissed you directly on it, his tongue entering you swiftly.

"Shit, oh my god." You cried out as your back arched, your hands clutching at his head as you moaned wantonly.

You felt him smirk against you as he bit your clit gently, reveling in the high pitched scream you let out as he ate your pussy out like it was his last meal.

You jumped as you felt him enter his index finger into you, the thickness of it causing your walls to clamp down on him in pleasure and your walls squeezed around him.

"You like that baby, I can tell by how tightly you're squeezing on my finger. Tell me baby, how am I making you feel?" He demanded as he thrusted his finger deeper, slipping it out to add two more as he thrust them deep and scissored them, stretching you open.

You spasmed, your legs nearly falling from the couch as he held your leg down with one hand.

"Fuck, you make me feel so good, Jonathan. S-so fucking good." You whimpered out as you felt your core tighten sensing your incoming release.

With a pleased hum, he thrusted hard against the soft spot of your inner wall sending you over the edge.

You cried out as your walls clenched on his fingers, your legs spasming as your back arched and your cum gushed over his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, lifting them to his mouth but before he could lick what you had to offer you pulled his hand towards you, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking them deeply as you whirled your tongue around each digit to collect your release.

His mouth hung slightly open as he watched you and you could feel him rut into the couch as his pants tightened even farther. His cock restrained in the material.

As soon as your lips left his fingers he grabbed your head between his hands and kissed you hungrily, a groan escaping him as he tasted you in the kiss.

You moaned into him and lowered your hand cupping him through his jeans. You grabbed at the waist of his pants and tugged as he distractedly shoved his pants off his legs, his boxers following.

He picked you up and laid you on the couch as he bent over you, circling his cock on your clit causing you to twitch.

"Condom?" He asked and you shook your head as you pulled him on top of you, his weight causing you to moan.

"On the pill." You supplied, he nodded as you pushed a hand on his chest softly to remove your shirt and bra as he swiftly yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside as you did the same, uncaring as to where they landed.

You whined as he gripped your breasts firmly, bending down to take your nipple into his mouth as he caressed the other.

He let go with a soft pop to slap one softly as you gasped at the action.

"I'll play with these later, right now I need to be inside you." You bit your lip at the promise and kept your gaze on him as he lined his cock up and entered you slowly.

You moaned brokenly as he continued to move inside you, his entire length filling you up and pressing against your cervix. You felt like you were going to split open from the sheer size.

"Fuck baby, so tight around me. Can practically see myself in your stomach, feel me right there baby, hmm?" He pressed on your abdomen where a slight bulge could be seen and you nearly came as you cried out at the pressure.

He pulled out slowly, your walls hugging his cock tightly, every ridge and curve brushing against your walls before he thrusted foward hard, his cock entering you in one smooth movement as every inch was forced back inside you.

Your back arched as a choked scream left you and your legs began to tremble as each thrust punched the air from your lungs, his tip knocking into your cervix with each stroke.

"Look at you baby, so pretty spread out on my cock. Practically splitting you open, but you like that huh, got you so dumb on my cock you can't even speak." He punctuated the last word with a thrust as you let out another keen whine.

A sudden ring pierced the air and you whined as Jonathan began to slow his thrusts, his eyes falling to your phone on the coffee table.

He picked it up, his eyes squinting at the screen as he began to leisurely thrust into you once again, the slow motion causing you to buck your hips up into him to get him to move faster.

"Hmm, looks like you got a call from Dean. Why don't you answer it baby, see what he wants." And before you can tell him no he presses the accept button, putting it on speaker and setting it back on the coffee table. You gasp as he thrusts hard, hitting your g-spot with no effort and causing you to clench around him.

"Hello?" Dean's voice rings out and you bite your bottom lip hard as Jonathan tilts his head at you to answer, his hand lifting your leg and pushing it to your chest causing him to slide deeper.

"Y-yeah?" You ask into the phone as Dean calls your name again.

"Hey, I can't find my Yankees Jersey, do you still have it?" He asks right as Jonathan gives another deep thrust that has you seeing stars. You choke as you struggle to form a coherent thought and Dean seems to hear the sudden strain of breath as he calls your name suspiciously.

"U-uh, no, n-no I haven't seen it." He hums and then proceeds to ask how you've been handling the break-up. Jonathan smirks as he scoots you up so that your legs are resting on either side of his, your bottom half resting on his lap. He thrusts hard and the angle now has him brushing your cervix with every stroke, the curls at the base of his cock kissing your clit. The stimulation causes you to moan loudly as you forget about every other thing, including your ex who is now shouting into the phone with confusion as he hears your moans.

"Hey Dean, Jonathan here and I'd say she's handling the break-up pretty well considering she's being split open on my cock right now. Listen." He holds the phone near your mouth as you moan brokenly.

Dean curses, shouting out in disbelief and Jonathan smirks as he hangs up the phone quickly, throwing it on the table as he brings his fingers to toy with your clit.

"Come on baby, I can feel you clenching on my cock. You liked him listening to me fuck you, didn't you?" He asks, your moans the only response he needs.

"You gonna come for me, huh angel? Come on my cock, baby. Squeezing me so tight, can't wait to fill this pretty pussy up." He mutters and the thought of his come overfilling you is what brings your pleasure to the brink.

You cry out as your pussy clenches around him like a vice, his cock fucking you through your climax as you spasm around him, and you moan as you hear a breathy gasp escape him, his cock twitching in you as he fires off a load of cum, pumping each round into you and coating your walls.

He collapses on you as you both pant and your mind slowly recovers from the haze of lust.

You kiss his cheek as he pulls out from you slowly, wincing at the sensitivity of your pussy and you reach your hand out to grab the wipes from where you keep them under the couch cushion, handing them to Jonathan who kisses you deeply in gratitude as he wipes himself off.

"We are definitely doing that again." You say after a beat of silence and he can't help but laugh.

He was so lucky to have met you that day in the park.

#graysonshaven #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #18+ content #smut #oscar isaac #oscar issac fic #jonathan levy fic

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doomsdaybby · 2 years

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Five Pounds & Sixty Pence (steven grant x female reader)

what to expect/warnings: switch steven (whiny subby/slightly possessive), mutual pining, steven needs to shut his dirty mouth, squirting, fingering, developing relationship.

I slightly blue balls you at the end but don’t worry about it.

word count: 3.8k

!!EXPLICIT!!

You had been on a few dates with Steven Grant over the past couple of months. The shy, charmingly awkward, beautiful man that worked in the museum gift shop encapsulated you like no other had ever done before.

“That’ll be - uhh - five pounds and sixty pence” his warm eyes glimmered, a polite smile graced his kind face, and you just about melted into a puddle on the floor. You had visited the museum for the first time with some friends early February that year, and were stupidly close to veering away from the gift shop, when the alluring man behind the till caused you to almost trip over your own feet.

“Taweret,” he exhaled a jittered chuckle as you fumbled through your purse, pointing to the small statuette of the goddess whilst his other hand twitched as if he wasn’t sure where to put it, to then clumsily settle on the counter. “Excellent choice”.

You paused and lifted your lashes to gaze at him, his expression bright although he was far from comfortable. He always lost the very little nerve he had around divine women. “She’s pretty,” you said after humming in agreement. Truth be told, you didn’t quite care, your only motivation being that you had to buy something, so that you could linger around the shelves and marvel at the enticing gentlemen behind the counter without making it too obvious.

You smiled back at him when his grin grew bigger, his tousled dark locks bouncing as he nodded eagerly, and you could have sworn his pink cheeks deepened in rouge. ‘Pretty’ maybe wasn’t the word Steven would use, but be it that it was coming from your mouth had him blindly agreeing.

You could tell from the praising comment that he was holding back from explaining why he thought you made a good choice, and if you weren’t being beckoned towards the exit by your friends, you would have enthralled him. His eagerness, the excited glimmer that lingered behind his chocolate irises drew you close, and you wished for more time.

“Thankyou-“ glancing at his name tag that sat slightly lopsided on the pocket of his navy button up, “-Steven” you smiled, handing him the array of pound coins and loose change. “With a V,” he stuttered, pointing to his name badge as if you hadn’t already looked at it. The alluring stranger was now a little less strange, and you silently cursed him for turning your legs to putty for doing virtually nothing.

Steven. How could he make such a generic name seem so endearing?

His gaze scanned your flushed face, lids sitting slightly lazy as you witnessed him slip into a visible small daze. “Oh- uh, yeah. You’re welcome” he stood up straight in a rush, stunned and a little embarrassed upon the realisation that he had drifted.

From then on, you made every excuse to visit the museum every so often, spending days off you would usually squander in your one bedroom flat stealing greedy glances at Steven from between the shelves.

In your free time, with no one there to unwillingly drag you away, you would stand head in hands propped up on your elbows on the other side of the till, listening to him with undivided attention rivet spellbindingly on about the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses.

“Starting a collection, are we?” he grinned, and you recognised that same gleeful glint behind his eyes. You had sparked the conversation once another small statuette, of Isis this time, graced his palms over the counter. “Will you tell me about her?” you requested politely, your feet rooting to the ground beneath you when he began gushing about the major Goddess.

Two months passed before you worked up the courage to ask him out, having talked yourself out of asking him sooner too many times. His reaction to the proposal of drinks after his shift made your heartbeat flutter a little faster; his face automatically brightened whilst blinking at you in almost disbelief.

“Is… that a… yes?” you prodded, unable to stifle the schoolgirl-esque giggle that wormed its way out of your chest when he was rendered mute. There he was again, swimming in that ditsy daydream that he would often visit when he was around you, a far off gaze that made his eyes twinkle.

Steven shook his head, coming to his senses quicker than he would if you had drenched him in ice water, “Oh! Yes! -“ he cleared his throat, “Yes. Absolutely! Give me uhhh…,” he glanced at his watch, “Half an hour?”.

The first date was even more wonderful than you could have imagined, never tiring of his over enthusiastic gleeful voice laced with more delight than you had ever witnessed when you prodded him more about his knowledge on ancient Egypt, surprised that he wasn’t already a tour guide.

“You’re wasted at that place, they don’t deserve you” you told him with utmost sincerity, after becoming excessively annoyed by his heavy sigh once you asked why he was still working in the gift shop. Not at him, of course, but at his stupid boss. Why did they not see how wonderful he was?

Though it settled your heart when you practically saw the sunken purple under lethargic eyes bore a healthy glow to match the warm tan of his skin, realising that he probably didn’t have somebody to tell him how great he actually was. His lips curled into a small smile, settling there as his cheeks turned to that familiar rouge.

“Will I… will I be able to see you again?” he asked apprehensively as he helped you with your coat, stumbling slightly almost as if he expected a refusal. You turned to him, enjoying the way he would evidently allow intrusive thoughts to sway his body language and facial expressions, his eyes furiously scanning your face for some sort of cue, praying to every God that the answer wasn’t no.

You straightened the collar of his shirt, resisting the urge to run your hands over his strong shoulders that were hidden underneath the oversized geometric fabric, that you quickly caught on was one of his favourites.

And like a moth to a flame, you couldn’t resist.

So now here you were, two weeks later curled up on Steven’s grey fabric couch in his dingy London flat, chowing down on some noodles from the local Chinese takeaway. It was a battle within itself to wiggle your way into his flat in the first place, stunting the tried and true trusty puppy dog eyes and pouty lip that had him practically melting in front of you.

Glancing beside you, your stomach pooled with an overwhelming warmth. “God, this is amazing!”, the delight coating his words snapped you out of a trance you didn’t realise you were in, watching how his face would twist into gleeful smiles and theatrical gasps. Who knew a movie about hobbits and wizards would have him so enthralled?

He was so innocently sublime, overwhelmingly beguiling to every degree and beyond, and somehow he was interested in you. At least that’s what you would like to think, as every time he made the smallest move he would proceed to hastily back out at the last second.

If your hands touched he would allow his fingers to linger there for a moment, before whisking it away as quickly as it appeared amidst an awkward clear of the throat.

“What?” he laughed when he noticed you staring, cheeks stuffed full of noodles and eyes glittering with wonder. You clocked the steal of a glance at your lips, which only made your smile grow wider and your cheeks flush a deeper pink. “Nothing,” you replied, returning your attention to the film, relishing in the sensation of his gaze raking across your face.

You would kill to know what he was thinking at that moment. Hoping that he shared in your desire; as if he were to give you the green light, that god awful geometric shirt would be ripped from his torso and cast to the floor quicker than he could say ‘Hathor’.

But you wanted Steven to be the one to take it further, as you already felt that you had to step on his throat to even get past the first date, let alone hold grapple him in a chokehold to get through his front door.

You couldn’t be the one to hold the reins forever, and if either of you wanted there to be a forever, he would have to pluck up the courage to take it that one step forward.

There was a kindling fire behind those dark chocolate eyes that screamed for a spark; a match, a fan to the flame, anything, to transform into a raging inferno. You savoured the anticipation, relishing in the fact that at any moment, the embers would ignite.

You could cut the thick tense blanket that swallowed the atmosphere with a knife, the longer Steven stared the quicker your heart would beat, spiralling exponentially towards concaving in your chest. “You’re not watching,” you told him, pretending that you didn’t just want to pounce on him there and then.

“Yeah… yeah” he nodded dizzily, admiring the curve of your lips and the slither of collar bone that peaked out from under your cotton t-shirt. He audibly swallowed, a small shake of his head as he too returned even a morsel of attention back to the screen, having to unbutton the collar of his shirt.

And for the next two hours you sat in near complete silence, a comfortable silence at that, eventually sitting parallel knee against knee, two spoons shovelling into one bowl of raspberry ripple ice cream. You both shared the odd glance and smirk when the other gasped at the tv screen, cannily drinking in the look on Steven’s face when he was consumed with laughter.

Becoming slightly tired of dangling on the edge of expectation, you shuffled over towards Steven’s side of the couch and rested your head on his shoulder. You could call it a bold move, as his bicep clenched under your touch, but would soon relax when your arm snaked through his to curl into a comfortable link.

He smelled so good. Like coffee beans and that generic cedarwood aftershave every man on the planet would wear. But it was like new when it came from him. You found yourself leaning into him, heart fluttering and head promising sin. If your eyes could take the shape of hearts, then they would have done at this moment. It was almost too much to bear.

“This was fun,” Steven said sheepishly whilst leaning against the doorframe of his front door, another perfect example of the fact that he never knew how to place himself, always appearing so self-conscious and fuelled by unease. “I like spending time with you,” you admitted, the first time either of you had explicitly informed the other that you actually valued when you were together.

Another bashful grin, both rows of teeth on full display as he glanced at the floor. You had half expected him to lift a leg up behind him like the lead female role would do in a rom-com. “We should do something again soon, yeah?” his eyes connected with yours, and your ribcage splintered. You didn’t want to leave. Not right now.

But it was obvious he didn’t want you to stay, and you lingered there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at him in your head to let you stay with him a little while longer.

“See you soon, Steven with a V” you turned to begin your walk to the uber waiting outside of the flat block, the lack of offer to, at the very least, walk with you resonating a painful sting.

But you barely even took a step, having only turned your back before you felt a strong grip of calloused fingers along the nook of your elbow. Spinning around, you didn’t have a chance to utter a single syllable before his lips were on yours. You leant forward towards him again, hands flying to his curls whilst his glide over your sides, mesmerising every curve and dip of your padded flesh, twisting around your back.

One hand settles on the small of your back, the other pressing frightenglingy harshly between your shoulder blades. He held you there, rooting you to the ground and suddenly feeling fragile and small in his grasp, waiting to be consumed and devoured. If he pressed any harder you would surely combust under the pressure.

Every shared glance, every hover of delicate fingers on skin, and every heartfelt compliment shattered and swelled all at once within this kiss. You had wanted it from the moment you saw him, with his lopsided name tag and dishevelled brooding appearance.

Your stomach flipped, lungs knotting themselves together amongst the sheer disbelief that you finally got to touch him, possessively and obediently. From your shoulder blades his large palm skates to hook around the back of your neck, forcing you closer as your teeth chattered against one another.

As much as you could stand here forever with him, consuming his taste and touch in every way possible, you couldn’t fuck him out in the corridor. So mustering up the might to push him back, he whimpered as your lips disconnected, his pink tongue chasing your mouth in a desperate attempt to keep you sealed together.

With the fabric of his shirt wadded in the palm of your hand and his shaking breath brushing your nose, you walked him back and shut the front door, not wasting another second before tugging on his shirt to pull him right back in. Steven jolted against you, swiftly lunging himself forward as your tongues twisted together before your lips even had the chance to reconnect.

He tasted of raspberry ice cream, so sweet, and you felt the stretch of his lips as he smiled into you. His large hands found your hips, digging fingertips into the soft flesh underneath the sheer fabric of your dress to quickly smooth over the hurt when you winced.

The awkward, sunken-so-far-down-in-his-chair-he-near-folded-in-on-himself, unimpeachable Steven had been flung out of the nearest window. This new form of himself that held you with such ferocity was uncharted territory, and you liked it.

He was desperate. And so were you.

“Oh god… is this okay?” he questioned against your lips as his fingers fumble with the hem of your dress, returning to those stuttering words and unsure wandering hands that were crying out to explore your body.

“Fuck, Steven, of course it’s okay” your voice dripped with arousal, a twinge of annoyance simmering behind your tone at his apprehensiveness. “Do whatever you want. It’s okay. This-“ you seized his hands and brought them up to harshly squeeze the tissue of your breasts, “-is okay”.

His eyes widened in a spectacular fashion as soon as his clammy palms kneaded the tender flesh, again frantic when they flickered between your chest and your face, unsure of where to look but knowing exactly what to do next.

Green light.

“‘Do whatever you want’, yeah?” his lips curled into a blood curdling grin, every cell in your body crystallising when you physically witnessed his eyes transcend darker. “Oh, darling. I will” and your heartbeat skyrocketed, much did the second one south of your hips that thumped with wicked urgent intent.

His kiss-bruised lips latched to your throat, and you felt yourself titling your head back against the door to give him easier access. As he nipped at the sensitive skin of your throat, one hand suctioned to your breast, resonating an ache that paired with the brutish force of his palming.

He wasted no time to send the other prowling up underneath your dress; nimble quick fingertips ghosting over the skin of your belly, sparking an array of goosebumps in their wake, tracing over the rolls of your sides along your ribs, settling against the cushion of your naked bosom.

Steven groaned against your neck, the rumbling adding to the multitude of sensations that had your breathing latch and heartbeat frantic. The only thing you could do was to hang onto him for dear life, your hands grasping to the roots of his curls as he had you pinned against the doorway, belligerently sucking welts of blue and purple against your skin.

“Fuck, Steven…” his name rolled off your tongue with an embarrassing simplicity, ready to fall to your knees if he commanded you to do so. You tightened your grip on his tousled curls, enough so that you winced at the mere thought of how it felt, but Steven only omitted a delighted groan in return.

He wedged himself against you, rolling his hips against your thigh where you quickly became aware of his own arousal, cock straining deliciously in his jeans. “Poor baby…” you cooed, reaching down to glide your hand over his clothed erection. He whimpered, a needy sound you had never quite heard before, fingers digging into your skin again so harshly you were bound to be bruised.

He melts against you, dragging a hand down to tease the waistband of your panties as your palm flattens along his apparent bulge. His head is buried into the crook of your neck, hot trembling moaning breaths fanning along your collarbone and chest. From this angle you could kiss along his glistening hairline, travelling towards his temple as you allowed him to drift again, savouring every little touch and squeeze in between.

“That’s it, darling” he drawled in response when you opened your legs for him, right on cue for his fingers to dip below the cloth concealing your modesty. Drawing him closer, ragged breaths seared the back of your throat as thick fingers discover how soaked you are for him. Ready and waiting, utterly dripping, for him.

“Fuck,” he runs his fingertips over the mound of your clit, breathing out a laugh of almost disbelief when you squeak. He must have felt your heart skip a beat; pulling his head back now to peer at you with a new wanderlust daze of sheer awestruck and admiration, a smirk painting his stupidly perfect face when those same fingers slid down to your slick entrance.

As if your state of arousal wasn’t obvious enough, as Steven teased your folds over and over again, the sound of it was a dead giveaway. “So fucking wet for me…” that familiar delight lingered behind his words, as if he had been presented with a professionally wrapped gift on christmas morning, satin bow and all.

“All for you…” you made sure he knew it. How devoted you were to him, how you would do anything he said at the drop of a hat. You had been hooked since the beginning. His thumb pad finally began to circle your clit, clumsily at first but he soon found his rhythm.

Now it was your turn to melt against him, fighting clawing urges to both hold his gaze and also throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut amongst the pleasure. Just as you thought you were as close to heaven as you could get, Steven pushed a thick ring finger into your aching heat, catapulting you to a place otherworldly.

“Jesus! Steven!”, although you were more than prepared for him, the sudden sensation of becoming so full by just a finger was a jolting surprise within itself. He stared at you slack jawed, running his tongue absentmindedly over his bottom lip, watching you spurred with sacrilegious intent.

You ground down against him in a stupor, silently begging for more. Of course, Steven wouldn’t leave you hanging, as much as the thought of you pleading for him danced in his head, he wasn’t about to deprive this sweet sweet Goddess of the pleasure she deserved. There was plenty of time to practice those fantasies he pushed to the back of his mind.

He slips in another finger with ease, the initial shock of his presence within you settling, the familiar warmth pooling at the pit of your stomach. “That’s it, angel. Such a good girl” he cooed in your ear, returning his lips that glimmered with saliva to your reddened throat, purring buttery sweet nothings against your skin.

“Oh my fucking god,” you squirmed away from his touch, the firecrackers rippling along your spine teetering on the edge of too much to bear. But in this position, trapped between a wooden door and a man that was built as if chiselled from polished marble, you had nowhere to go.

And jesus fuck, you were glad to be caged.

Steven pulled his fingers back out of you again, and this time you whimpered in the same desperate tone he adorned only minutes ago. But with a shift of his posture and a curve of his wrist, he curled his fingers up into you at a new unrelenting angle that had you chanting with no cohesion.

He suckled at your flesh, the bulging arteries that pumped mercilessly with hot blood beckoning him like a siren call. “Oh god, Steven. Steven!” your whimpers became cries, cries became muffled screams that were stunted by the weight of his free hand that clasped rapidly over your mouth. The last thing he needed was a noise complaint from his shitty neighbours.

“Are you going to cum for me, angel? Such a pretty baby, falling apart all because of my fingers? You have no idea what my cock can do to you” the filth that stringed from his lips were enough to tip you over that edge, his voice as sweet as honey yet cold as ice. You never imagined such vulgarity to bubble from the throat of someone so… well, someone like Steven.

Your throat splintered under the weight of your cries, moan after moan ripping from your chest as you flooded the palm of his hands. You faintly heard what can only be described as rain in a thunderstorm hammering down south of your hips, head fuzzy and brain buzzing.

You noticed Steven’s bewildered and exhilterated expression as his focus dipped to his fingers that ploughed you through your high, slowing to a steady pace as your cries dwindled into soft moans. “Bloody hell, can you do that again?!“ his boyish pitch had returned, and it was when you fully came to your senses that you realised what had happened.

Titling your head down to follow his wide eyes, your chest began to cave in once again through the panic of realisation. You saw the front of Steven’s jeans first, splashed with the result of your orgasm, then; the tips of his fingers still aligned with your entrance, his palm and wrist dripping with your cum.

And the floor. God. The floor had become puddled with more arousal than you had ever seen. You knew you were capable, but goddamn, you had never squirted this much before.

“Oh jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ but you were cut off by his lips sealing with yours in a flurry, quickly shutting you up and snuffing out any doubt that has risen in your head. “Don’t you dare apologise,” he warned, tone so buttery and genuine as he kissed away any shame or uncertainty.

“I'm going to make you do that again”.

—————————————————————————

woohoo! my first moon knight fic.

feedback is always appreciated! 💖

should I do a second part? I think that’s fair lmao.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight #unapologetic oscar isaac content #oscar isaac #marvel #marvel fan fiction #mcu imagine #moon knight imagine #steven grant imagine #slight follow of canon #but also not really #fanfiction writer #doomsdaybby

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soulcandi · 25 days

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𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 | 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

synopsis: on your fifth day at the lennox house, blue jones called you his puppy. and to the amusement of everyone else trapped inside this glittering hellhole, it stuck. it stuck like glue.

warnings: written with afab!reader in mind, fluff, heavy petting, mentions of sex, no explicit smut (yet), pet-play-ish, puppy!girl vibes, mentions of human trafficking (blue literally owns you), mentions of drug use, you smoke a cigarette at some point.

a/n: i actually published this on ao3 like...a long time ago, but i feel bad not posting anything here and also I'm re-watching this movie (sucker punch 2011) and it slaps so hard and i need to pressure you ppl into watching it too. go go go.

word count: 2,932

blue playlist, anyone?

Blue loosened his tie and listened for his office door to click shut behind him. He could feel the black makeup melting underneath his tired eyes that were still swimming from the two whiskies he downed at dinner with his potential client; the very same client he ended up losing by the end of the night. To top off that great show of success, he also had to fire one of his best men for trying to tamper with one of the dancers. She was new enough not to understand one of the most obvious rules at Lennox:

No one fucks with the merchandise without paying for it.

He would even go as far as to say they might have been a cute couple. If only one of them wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere off the highway with a hole blasted through their skull.

While Lennox was just a front for his real business —the arms dealing, the coke smuggling, the gambling, all the fun stuff— taking care of his girls was often the most taxing part of Blue’s day. But he was sure that someone else could handle breaking up a few petty girl fights and settling disputes between dancers for a few hours. He was a promised man from now until sunrise.

He felt the weight of his day slip off of his shoulders as he slinked into the apartment. Being near you always had that effect on him. It was addictive.

Of all the girls that made up Lennox House, your name came the easiest to him. He nearly gave in when Sweet Pea started calling you Crybaby during your first week. And he had to give it to her, it was a fitting title at the time. But by the third day when you came to terms with your situation and those beautiful wet doe eyes finally dried up, you only ever pointed them at Blue.

You clung to him like he was your lifeline in an ocean of fierce eyeliner and suffocating hairspray fumes. And to make matters worse, he let you. He was the only one who didn’t glare as you walked through the dance studio, but he sure as hell wasn’t smiling either. Unassuming? Maybe. Bored? Absolutely. But bored was the closest thing you’d gotten in the way of kindness since you were booted through the front door. It didn’t occur to you that you should be afraid of the man who not only bought you from your family but who kept you hostage in that dark, lonely place for days on end.

It didn’t take long for boredom to melt into mild curiosity, which soon took the shape of vivid fascination. His thoughts were consumed by the girl desperately eager to earn her place amongst his best dancers, who didn’t know it but somehow got anything she wanted from the few girls who took pity on her.

His pride forbade him from immediately giving in to your gentle begging and pleading looks. He wanted to spoil you rotten from the very beginning. You had a natural talent for getting what you wanted and you would have done numbers on his clientele. It was a shame he could never bear to share you with his customers.

On your fifth day at Lennox, Blue Jones called you his puppy. And to the amusement of everyone else trapped inside this glittering hellhole of a prison, it stuck. Like glue.

“Puppy?” he called expectantly, a relaxed smile already making its way up to his lips as he loosened his tie an extra inch. The space was everything he could have ever needed —his office, bedroom, and living quarters— all without ever having to leave the building. He’d arranged for CJ to have you delivered there while he finished up his schmoozing, but you weren’t in your usual spot at the foot of the bed when he passed through the entryway.

Blue’s smile instantly tightened into a silent snarl, his eyes flickering around the small, warmly lit room. Evidence of your presence only lingered from the countless nights he had called you there for his own selfish reasons. Your perfume spun through the air in faded ribbons and his eyes fluttered shut as he savored the scent that seemed to follow you everywhere around this dirty place.

If you weren’t sitting there waiting for him, at least he knew you’d been there recently. There was at least some comfort in the image of you planted on your knees, pouting as you watched the clock mounted on the wall opposite of his desk, watching the minutes tick away into restless hours.

God, Blue knew he didn’t deserve you. He told himself that every time he came home like this just to sink against your warm, pliant body. He didn’t deserve you. But lord knew he needed you.

A soft noise drew his attention to the bathroom door, held slightly ajar by a mound of thin fabric that Blue immediately recognized as the costume you’d been wearing in the theater that night. He memorized the look on his potential client’s face when you bounced into the room with a tray of tequila shots balanced carefully in your hands.

“Close your mouth, hotshot,” he’d wanted to say, but there’s no fun in calling off the dogs before they start wagging their tails. “She’s spoken for.”

Blue pushed the bathroom door inwards with the back of his knuckle. The hot steam fanned his tired face and he bit back a desperate whine even before he ever saw you hidden there amongst a towering array of bubbles.

“Who said you could take a bath without me?”

He didn’t mean to startle you, but he certainly wouldn’t apologize for that delicious panicked expression on your face either. You were a shy little thing. A little less than a month at Lennox still hadn’t beaten that out of you. Blue had seen all sorts of girls in all sorts of states of undress, but you did something special to him. He had yet to decide if this was something to be wary of.

Your back had been to the door when he first entered. Blood rushed to your face and you moved to cover yourself with a small pile of bubbles that you’d accumulated as Blue swaggered closer to the tub, eyes shamelessly drinking in every inch of you that he could see. You felt caught, avoiding his gaze like the black plague.

He played with you too much. One of these days you were going to bite back and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Setting his glass on the edge of the claw-footed tub, Blue kicked off his leather shoes and made a show of jutting his throat so his cigarette wouldn’t mar the red silk tie as he pulled it up over his head. “Just teasing, precious. Make room.”

The heat of embarrassment never left your face and you could only stare down at the iridescent bubbles as Blue undressed in front of you. You’ve only ever seen him bare from the waist down. Or rather — from button to fly.

Blue took it upon himself to teach you everything he thought a Lennox girl should know and he was generous enough to take the time out of his busy schedule to let you practice on him. You’ve memorized every pulsing vein and tender inch of his cock, just like he instructed you to, but it didn’t make you any more willing to unshield your eyes as your boss slipped underneath the veil of hot water beside you.

Was this your divine punishment for wandering out of the bedroom and drawing a bath without his permission? You could only lay upside down and count the ceiling tiles so many times before getting a headache.

Your hair was still pinned up from your time on the floor and Blue watched carefully as specks of glitter rivered down your bare collarbones. He was content in watching you manipulate the bubbles with your hands, stacking them in short towers and swirling your fingers through the water. He took a long drag from his cigarette. Those thick Cuban cigars were reserved for his highest-paying customers only. Besides, he never got used to the taste. Like aged paper and stale earth.

Blue watched you closely, his eyes trailing up and down the pale scars that littered your delicate fingers. He hated how eager you were to work alongside your friends in the kitchens. He made it very clear from the start that you didn’t have to do anything like that as long as he was around, but you persisted with those perfect little puppy eyes of yours.

One day he would have to say no to you. But that day was not today.

He found himself watching the security footage like a hawk whenever you had kitchen duty. After the cook’s little fuck-up with one of his girls a while back, he was hesitant to let something as dear to him as you anywhere near the backrooms.

But the pig seemed to have learned his lesson. If anything, he appeared to be under the same spell as he was. Poor little fucker. The only difference was that the cook never got to see you like this — stage makeup smeared from warm bathwater and perfumed steam.

Blue sunk lower into the tub, two fingers pinching his cigarette millimeters above the water’s surface. You were completely bare to him. The only thing decorating your body was a white leather band – just as wide as his thumb was long – secured around your neck. He studied the golden heart-shaped pendant nestled between your soapy breasts, tracing the letters with his half-lidded eyes.

PUPPY

A smug smile wrestled its way onto Blue’s lips, knowing that his name was printed just as bold on the opposite side, right after ‘property of.’ It was one of your first little treats after he became completely and utterly infatuated with you.

He made it a habit to bestow most of these treats upon you in the crowded dressing room or dance studio. He loved watching the lights in the other girl’s eyes flicker with raging jealousy as they studied your newest gift, knowing that while they shunned you for the next week or so, you would spend all of your time pouting in his bed while he worked from his desk. Once he got a taste of that view, it became impossible to focus on anything else.

“Can I try?”

Your voice rang out in the silent room like a bell. Your arms crossed over your concealed lap and the charm around your neck jingled from the movement. Your eyes were glued to the cigarette between Blue’s fingers and when he held it higher above the water to readjust his weight, you licked your lips hungrily.

You’ve seen the men on the club floor smoking them all the time as they watched the dancers perform. They smelled god awful and the smoke always clung to your hair even after you shower at the end of a shift, but you couldn’t help but wonder.

Blue chuckled, unable to hide his growing amusement. The water rippled as he reached across the tub. “Two fingers, there you go.” He instructed you on how to hold it properly, sitting back to watch the show with a snicker.

You wrapped your lips around the papery cylinder and breathed in deep, just like you’ve observed. The bitter smoke rapidly filled your lungs and you leaned forward to cough into your wet elbow, gingerly handing it back out to Blue who was barely containing an understanding chuckle.

“Nah, Nah, Nah, you’re doing it all wrong. C’mere.” He tapped his thigh underneath the water and you recognized it as one of his more casual commands, immediately abandoning your bubble creations to crawl across the floor of the tub until your back was resting up against his slippery bare chest. Your wet hair tickled his jaw as he took another inhale, worshipping the taste of you all along the mouth of his cigarette.

“Here,” he grumbled, skipping the part where he handed it to you just to pin the off-yellow end between your lips. A hand traveled up your throat and his thumb stroked the underside of your jaw encouragingly. “Suck in. Deep.”

It’s a command and he growls it, watching your chest rise and fall with the glowing of the embers. When he wants you to stop, he taps your cheek with the back of his finger. “Hold it.” And obediently, you do.

With the fresh, mind-clouding smoke swirling around in your lungs, Blue leans down and slowly kisses up the column of your throat, beginning his journey right above your white leather collar. Such a good girl, letting him pet you like this. He marks you with his lips all the way up to your earlobe, ending your torment with a harsh nibble.

“Okay,” the word leaves him in a regretful breath and he clings to the lingering taste of your skin on his lips. It’s the first time you’ve bared yourself to him like this and he wasn’t going to let you get away without memorizing every curve and dip of your flesh. “Let go, puppy.”

The smoke fans from your parted lips without a single cough or wheeze of discomfort. As soon as the last of the vapors were expelled from your lungs, you turned around to project your proud beaming face at Blue, which he returned tenfold as he let his eyes roam your face freely. Look at you, doing just what he asked.

He took the opportunity to hike you up taller in his lap until your stomach was pressed flush against the underside of his hardening cock. He groaned at the way your thighs instinctively tightened around his torso. Your eyes grew wide as you smoothed your hands over his chest. Blue smirked, chin jutting upwards in a shallow nod. “Kiss me.”

Like you’d only just been waiting for spoken permission, you instantly captured his lips with yours, allowing his firm hands to rock your hips against his lap in painfully slow circles that made you whine softly into his open mouth.

He allowed his hands to travel freely over the landscape of your body, his hands gliding over your wet skin. Your soapy breasts felt like heaven under his fingers and you let out a desperate little pant as the rough pads of his thumbs rolled over your untouched nipples. The pleasure caught you off guard and you giggled into his kiss. Unbeknownst to you, Blue was memorizing the feeling of your smile and how it molded perfectly against his.

The drugs did nothing for him. But this — you — he could see himself easily becoming addicted to.

A heavy knock shook the door to Blue’s office. He hadn’t thought to close the bathroom door when he was still clothed and he could make out the silhouette of one of his henchmen behind one of the stained glass panels past the entryway.

“Mr. Jones?”

“Yeah! Just… One —One minute!”

He wasn’t quite done navigating your body, but you seemed put off by the presence at the door, already trying to sink deeper into the protective bubbles. He doesn’t like that—how you try to hide yourself from him.

You’ve turned yourself to face the door now, eyeing the silhouette although you knew whoever it was couldn’t see a thing past the pictured glass. Blue was the only man in Lennox House who didn’t look ready to eat you alive at a moment’s notice. Other than CJ, who always seemed like he would rather be someplace else as he trailed behind his boss and dutifully cleaned up his messes.

Blue accepted this new position and began assaulting your neck with hungry kisses that made you yelp and melt back into his arms. The knocking starts again, turning thunderous just as he decides to explore the territory that you’ve kept hidden underneath the canopy of soapy water.

His fingers traced your outer thighs, rolling his fingers in loose circles as he inched his way closer and closer to your core. Blue could nearly feel the tips of his fingers tremble with anticipation before another series of knocks broke his nearly religious concentration. He glared at the doorway as he pulled away, bringing both hands up to clutch your jaw and turn your face to the side so he could plant one last parting kiss against your cheek.

“Dry off,” he barked, a little peeved at himself for letting his workday anger seep into this one moment he had with you. His other hand came up and patted your cheek. “I want you on the bed when I get back.”

The fresh towel he haphazardly secured around his waist did very little to obscure his growing erection and he cussed under his breath. Gathering his clothes into a pile, he heard the water stir behind him and peered over his shoulder to see you leaning halfway out of the tub, looking up at him compliantly. “Okay, Blue,” you chirped, only sounding slightly dejected by his brief dismissal.

It was like hearing his name for the very first time every time you spoke it. Blue huffed, now glaring sharp daggers at the figure standing just on the other side of the door. Whatever required his attention so desperately better be worth it. Because if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop another body into that ditch.

#sucker punch 2011 #sucker punch #blue jones #blue jones x reader #blue jones fanfiction #fanfiction #sucker punch fanfiction #candywrites #puppy #spicy content #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac hernandez estrada #x reader #reader insert #fem reader

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keira-draws · 2 years

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hi guys i'm new to tumblr, have some steven grant I drew <3

#steven grant #moon knight #moonknight #oscar issac hernandez estrada #oscar isaac #marc spector #this is one of my fav moon knight scenes and no one ever makes content for it so thats why im here #khonshu was definitely giggling during this scene #moon knight art #moon knight fanart #keira draws

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mollymmusing · 4 months

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jacob elordi apparently replacing andrew garfield in frankenstein????? with oscar isaac and mia goth??? a guillermo del toro film!??!??!!? CINEMA baby! this is !!!!!!! QUALITY this man is booked and busy he is in eVERYTHING good for him good for HIM

#jacob elordi #frankenstein #guillermo del toro #oscar isaac #mia goth #this is quality content

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moondoposting · 2 years

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merc!marc and pedro!frenchie sketch dump because i am unwell

#idk if you can differentiate them at all lmao #i have less experience drawing pedro #not much of his face in the mandalorian…#i rekwire more mercenary marc content right now #wtf did he and frenchie do during that time i i i i i i i #frenchie will be like ‘and the red flags mean speed up!’#did a bunch of style experimentation on this so it’s a bit chaotic fnvndjfnd #moondodrawing #moon knight #marc spector #jean paul duchamp #frenchie #frenchie moon knight #cause there’s that pirate guy called frenchie i guess #pedro pascal #oscar isaac

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the-force-awakens · 3 months

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I think something that no one talks about is how Poe leans more towards being an anti-hero than just plain hero. He's willing to do the "wrong" things for the right reasons, ex: willing the kill bad people to save the innocent, basically willing to do the dirty work that no one wants to talk or think about. and I think it should be talked about more. Your post was just *chefs kiss*, the way you understood Poe is so refreshing compared to what I see him reduced to in canon

Poe definitely is willing to make the tough calls, including being willing to kill bad people to save innocent people (or destroy a planet to save countless others), but I wouldn't necessarily sort him into the antihero trope myself, more the "good is not nice" trope.

Because for as much as Poe is willing to shoot the bad guys, or blow up a planet if it means saving the galaxy, he's usually the first person to lower his blaster or offer someone a second chance. The biggest source of conflict between himself and Zorii in Free Fall is the fact that Poe can't fit into this life of shades of grey, and that's a trait that does follow him to the Resistance. He can lie (badly) for them, he can steal ships, be labeled a criminal if it's done for the right reasons/for the Resistance but at the same time, he also......really can't wrap his head around and seems uncomfortable at times with Suralinda's way of manipulating or recontextualizing the truth for propaganda purposes (which i wish had...been better explored in the comics it's Fine, but like I wanna know more about Poe "can't lie" Dameron and Suralinda "i'm here to tell a good story" Javos. I WANT TO KNOW MORE LUCASFILM), even if Suralinda is doing those things for the Resistance, so they can gain more support.

There's also this quote of Rian Johnson's, that I really love, and that I feel like sums up Poe the best for me:

“Oscar is like a reincarnation of my favorite old movie stars; he has that old school magnetism paired with insane acting chops. Poe is a straight-up, good-guy hero, and although he gets put through the wringer in this film, because of Oscar you never lose faith that he’s going to come out the other end all the better for it.” [from this post]

I'm having trouble wording/it's kind of hard for me to explain, but like. I view Poe as someone who is, like Rian describes him, as a good-guy hero, who usually cannot quite stop the instinct to do the heroic thing, and how that can make him quite reckless (I do believe Oscar actually described Poe during the TFA Press Tour as "recklessly heroic" sir I'm sorry i ever doubted you about Poe being reckless, I thoroughly learned my lesson #13 Poe issues and a knife to Poe's hand later) - but I think also that doesn't mean that Poe needs to look like the hero, and I think TLJ proves that? He does what he believes is the best for the Resistance, and seizes control of the Raddus. It's a last resort, of course, and I don't think he necessarily cares about what people might think of him for it* - he's a commander, he makes the hard calls all the time, and regardless of his own desire to be a hero, I don't think Poe necessarily wants to be praised as one. He's just gonna do the right, most heroic thing at any given moment, and doesn't care what people say. I mean...we kind of get the impression he's used to being seen a certain way, y'know? Poe doesn't seem surprised in the least when Holdo berates him, he just has this look of "oh this banthashit again I thought I'd heard the last of it", y'know?

*y'know except for leia. because he definitely makes a face when she says that thing about holdo in the transport. anyway moving on because this got completely. the train jumped the track here. adhd moment.

As much as he is willing to do some hard things for the Resistance, I feel like Poe would. not last a day in the Rebellion - the Rebellion is just gray. You have to be, fighting something like the Empire, they're quick and dirty and. manipulative and liars and assassins, and Poe...wouldn't have the heart for that, I think. So I do believe there would be a line, in what Poe would even be willing to do for the Resistance.

That said, I do wish canon/fanon would be more willing to explore....any of his. nuance. that everyone seems very allergic to acknowledging, and I'd especially be interested in seeing more of Poe's - I'm a dw nerd sorry I'm just gonna call it this every time - "oncoming storm" side because it's so much fun. There's some other facets of his character I'd love to see explored in more detail, but that one especially. It would honestly be a dream, I think, if Alex Segura got to write for him again, but perhaps this time in the Resistance era, because I think that man would have a blast!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! with writing a good spy adventure.

#ask box #userorb #my meta #(again. oops?)#poe dameron #i haven't seen anyone categorize him more as an anti-hero before tho! but tbh i also.#don't see many people categorizing him as good is not nice either #because that would imply. yknow. acknowledging that poe has depth #and nuance.#and that he exists as a character outside of being attractive or a part of [is sniped]#anyway.#unfortunately getting any exploration on him would. involve.....actual content for him and we're in the middle of a fcking drought right no #i would also Love if someone explored how sensitive he can be t hough #and i don't just mean in a fjaofjaosfj oscar 'he has a sensitive side' isaac way lmfaoooo but wouldn't that be something #poe definitely has rsd i think because he takes rejection/slights SO hard #i kind of want to make a compilation of it JUST from the movies/resistance alone #unfortunately there's So much there (plus in through the turbulance) that i.........do not have the spoons to do so

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chalterdh22 · 6 months

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Day 31: Poe, Finn and Rey in Aftercare

Lee: Poe Dameron

Ler: Rey and Finn

Summary: Poe ends up getting injured and Rey and Finn are there to help him. come to find out, the injury isn’t bad at all, but totally worth discovering it and other things about their friend.

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read. Fluffy, friend humor.

Poe had stumbled back into their ship. Finn ran off to get some medical supplies and Rey was trying her best to be gentle with him, but that wasn’t her nature really. “Where did the blade cut you?” she asked frantically.

“My side,” he gasped, holding a spot on his right side tightly.

“Let me see!” She ripped his hand away and pulled up his under shirt to see this huge gash. “Poe, really?”

“What? It hurts so bad!!!” He grabbed his side again.

“Seriously Poe! I thought you were dying here! Stop messing around, it’s barely a scratch!”

“Why does it hurt so bad?” he asked moaning.

“I don’t know. Maybe you pulled a muscle.” she guessed, kneeling down next to where he was sitting on the floor. “Here, let me look again to make sure." He nodded and lifted his shirt back up.

She reached out and lightly touching it making him flinch. “Sorry, I’m trying to see if there’s a muscle cramping. I won’t touch it directly then.” She then took two to massage around the mark and this time he curled up and let out a quick laugh. “Whoa! Sorry Poe! What was that?”

He quickly removed the grin from his face and sat back straight up. “Nothing,”

“Nothing what?” Finn came jogging back with arms full of medical supplies. Rey chuckled looking at him, realizing he wouldn’t need any of that for his tiny scratch.

“Oh, Poe’s just really sensitive today is all.” she said smirking back at him. “I’m trying to help him with his injury, and he keeps moving away from me!”

“Come on Poe, let her help! Is it really that bad?” Finn asked concerned. Poe just stared blankly at Rey, like waiting for her to say something.

“No, no. It’s nothing actually. I feel much better now!” He started to stand up when Rey grabbed tightly around his arm.

“Nonsense,” she said, pulling him back to a seated position on the floor. “I’ll help tend your wounds,” she said condescendingly.

“Let her help, Poe. Stop being so stubborn!” At this point, Rey had the biggest smile on her face, as Poe had a look of fear. Finn was just standing by watching, not sure what to expect.

Rey finally pulled him forward to her, and then threw him on the ground, pinning one arm above his head with her arm, and a knee pinned his other arm. He let out a gasp as his back hit the ground.

“Geeze, Rey. Careful!” Finn said, looking still concerned over his friend and his wounds. “We are trying to help him get better, not injury him more!”

“Yeah, Rey!” Poe said, still trying to sit up.

“Oh, I am helping. Let’s take a look at this wound again. Finn, can you get me some gauze and tape please. Oh, we should put some ointment on it first though.” Finn gladly gave her all those things as Poe really started struggling under her weight.

“I’m good Rey. Really!” Finn put some ointment on her fingers, and she started massaging it all over Poe’s defenseless rip cage, around his tiny mark.

He let out a gasp and a laugh and started to kick, trying to know her off of him. “Sttttoopppp iittttt, Rrrreeeeeeeyyy~!” He barely got it out.

“Why are you tickling him?” Finn asked, confused, but grinning slightly. Laughter was contagious it seemed.

“I’m not, I’m healing his sore.” She said sweetly. “Hand me a piece of gauze please.” Finn put a piece in her free hand, and she was dabbing it all around the same area. “It really does feel like there’s a know her, Poe. Oh, wait, it just shifted down a few inches!” Then she attached his ribs a few down from his injury.

“SSSSttttopopppp itttt! Puuuuhleeease!”

“Stop being such a baby.” Finn said, now wanting to join in. He went straight for his hips and squeezed, sending poor Poe’s body off the floor, almost bucking Rey off too. He was belly laughing so hard, he couldn’t fight anymore, so he tried to curl up the best as he could, against his best friends’ attacks.

“Ok, ok. I think he’s healed now Rey.” Finn said, standing up. She stopped as well, stood up and offered him a hand, which he accepted.

“You guys are the best.” Poe said sarcastically.

“Yup and don’t you forget it!!!”

#augtickletober2023 #tickletober #tickle content #tickle fluff #tickle fic #star wars #poe dameron #rey star wars #finn star wars #oscar isaac

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