Something Really Shitty Has Just Been Passed By The UK Goverment.

Stone Heart - Part Two

Moodboard by @acrossthesestars

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Steven Grant x Demisexual!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: Fluff, Friends to lovers, Demisexual reader, Passing mention of unwanted sexual advances (not from Steven)

Summary: Maybe Steven’s one-sided friendship isn’t so one-sided after all… AKA a Moon Knight Pygmalion AU

Author’s Note: The response to Part One has completely blown me away. You can thank @letterfromvienna for encouraging me to turn this silly little idea from a throwaway idea to a two part bit of self-indulgent, romantic fluff, and for contributing some wonderful ideas and bits of dialogue. Thank you also to @acrossthesestars for endless support in the form of proofreading, hand holding, and mood board making. I love you so much, my crow. 🖤

Your heart thunders in your ears as Steven steps into view and oh, the sensation of having a pulse again is nearly as dizzying as being close enough to touch him.

“Hello, Steven.” The words weigh on your tongue like honeycomb, sweet and strange. This isn’t your mother tongue but it feels right to greet him in the language you’ve gathered over the centuries.The one he makes sound so dear.

“Uh, hiya,” Steven manages weakly. His eyes dart between you and the empty plinth beside the bench, uncertainty in every line of his body. Jackal-headed soft toys litter the marble floor between you. They’d gone tumbling from the box he’d dropped upon seeing you but he doesn’t stoop to gather them. 

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Familiar Voice (smut)

A/N: Professor Grant typa stories own me so I am giving this a go. Not proofread, sorryyy.

Summary: Reader is a university student who makes erotic audios online, Steven discovers why his favorite flirty voice actress sounds familiar.

Pairings: Professor!Steven Grant x F!Reader

Warnings: very explicit content, sexual language, age-gap (legal), professor-student relationship, mentions of erotic audio, implied exhibitionism, cunniglingus, multiple O’s, getting dominated, riding, praise kink, lots of “sir”

Word count: honestly don’t know, this has a lot

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+

You should not be looking at him like this. Absolutely not. Snap the fuck out of it before he catches you.

Class with Professor Steven Grant was only during Thursdays and Fridays at 3:00 PM, your last class of the day. Sadly, today was a Friday and this would be the last time you’d witness his godlike physique till next class on Thursday.

You really shouldn’t stare. It was impossible not to look though, he was wearing a dark blue dress shirt that was incredibly tight on his upper arms and chest. Like, it wasn’t fair for him to be waltzing to class like this. When you took this Egyptology class, you took it purely for educational purposes. But now, its been two semesters and you have no intention of switching.

Professor Grant was too damn hypnotizing.

“Ms. Y/l/n, are you still with us?” You get snapped out of your thoughts with his voice. You think you were staring at the ground at this point but it was embarassing nonetheless.

“Y-yes, sorry.” You shook your head and blinked a few times. Everyone in class was probably looking at your dumbass but you just buried your head back into the book.

Professor Grant stared at you for a few seconds, wondering what was going on in that mind of yours. You were no means a failing student, you were actually one of his brightest pupils. Unfortunately, your grades have been dropping lately. Despite this, he presses on, “Alright, so as I was saying…”

The class went on for at least an hour more, you were desperate to leave. You had a creative outlet for all these pent up emotions, sexual emotions, that Professor Steven Grant constantly made you feel.

That was through your hobby, recording erotic audios. You would create and record scenarios and act them out with your voice—as if you were doing it in real time with the listener. It was like being a x-rated actress, without having the actual exposure. It was pretty fun. Sure, you had a sizeable audience but all you cared about was letting out your pent up thoughts.

So as the class ended and you stood up from your seat, you couldn’t wait to just get to the hallway and exit the Professor Grant’s presence. “Ms. y/l/n, please stay behind.” You were already about 5 feet away from the door when he said that. Internally, you cursed. Why? Why oh why must this day be a pain in the ass?

You turned around and walked to his desk. He waited for everyone in the class to leave, only leaving the two of you alone in the room. Oh, the unholy thoughts that were going through your mind was enough to fuel your imagination for one of your audio recordings. But, you push it aside.

“What’s wrong, professor?” You lean slightly to his desk as he sits back down. He clasps his hands together and removes his glasses. Insinuating that he was about to tell you something serious, but you couldn’t help but gulp hard at the sight of his arms tensing.

“Is there something wrong, dear? Your performance these past few months hasn’t been the same.” He seemed concerned. Truly he was, he didn’t want someone with the amount of potential that you had to throw it down the drain.

And you didn’t even have a proper excuse as to why your grades were flunking. You swore it wasn’t on purpose. You have just been distracted during his classes.

“I- I have no excuse, Sir.” He felt a bit of a twang form by his crotch when you said sir. Something about it was so innocent yet so needy. I mean, if you knew that he felt attracted to you, you would probably tell the guidance counselor and run for the hills. But yes, he found you incredibly fascinating.

The way you wore those high waisted pants, joggers or leggings. God your thighs drove him nuts. The way your breasts would sometimes end up plopped ontop of your desk whenever you were writing— he could imagine it in his palm, kneeding the neediness out of them. But hey, this was just fantasies he wouldn’t act upon. All he could do is make sure you weren’t gonna continue self destructing.

“Well, this is very disappointing. You need to heighten your grades before the finals.” He grabs a pile of paper and taps it on the desk to straighten them out.

Disappointing? God, that word almost made you cry. You never wanted to make the man who you literally look up to, in more ways than one, feel disappointed in you. “I… I will. I promise, I don’t want to disappoint you further, Sir Grant.” The words were almost testing him. I mean to you it was probably nothing, just a formality. But goddamnit he felt his cock twitch more than it should have. Thank goodness you were on the opposite side of his desk.

He dismisses you, and you were on your happy merry way while he tried to make it home faster. Both of you guys couldn’t wait to be alone— for reasons that seemed to be unrelated but were actually far from it.

~

Steven arrives home and manages to re-heat some leftovers. By the time he was finished eating and drinking a bit of tea, it was time to go through his student’s papers and lesson plans for next week.

As he opens his laptop and opens the needed programs to plan out the week ahead. He grabs the papers in his work bag to grade. It was gonna be a slow night. He thought. There was nothing truly interesting about what he was doing since most of the time he’d just fall asleep during these seasions.

Then, he remembers. Fridays are usually when his favorite naughty audio maker uploads new content to listen to. He favored this content creator because her voice and aura was so similar to you, he couldn’t help but picture it was you speaking those sweet nothings into his ear. Dirty talking, begging, moaning. But who was he kidding? You weren’t like that.

Immediately, he whips out his phone and stands up to grab his earphones. Grading and planning these lessons out can wait.

He finds a comfortable place on the couch, sitting by the middle. Finally, he plugs in the earphones into the phone jack, opening up his browser to go to the audio page.

BabyVixen135

He types the username and heads to the page. Just as expected, a new audio that was uploaded a few minutes ago appears on the feed. Steven felt like a little kid on Christmas day as he selects the new audio, waiting for it to load. One quick glance to the title had his pulse quickening.

[F4M] Extra Credit, pretty please, Sir?

The audio began. It had atmospheric sounds to it that made him feel even more indulged to the scenarios being described and given. Suddenly, her voice enters his ears.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Oh, my grades? I… I didn’t know they were that bad…”

“No, I swear there’s nothing wrong, my life is pretty good.”

“Well there is one thing…”

“No, you wouldn’t like it…”

He found himself imagining the situation, imagining responding to the woman’s voice who was beginning to eerily remind him of you. But he just continued immersing himself into this dirty fantasy.

“I get distracted during your lectures…”

“See? It’s silly- I… It’s cause I find you… I find you very attractive, Sir.”

There that fucking sir was again. Why did it sound so much like you, he felt his length to be rock hard by now and couldn’t help but take it out into his hand.

“You aren’t mad?”

“But… this is so embarrasing. Sir? What if someone sees us?”

“Oh god, that does feel good.”

“Fuck, sir, your fingers feel so good on my pussy.”

Damn, he didn’t even last. He was stuck thinking that this voice was actually you and he lost it when the audio said pussy. This was pathetic, but truth be told, he has been horny all day and this could be the result. But enough of that, why did it sound like you so bad?

He fast forwards the audio to the end where there was usually sweet exchanges of words because he wanted to see if the twang in your voice was present all throughout.

“Mm, you felt so good baby… I hope you don’t mind me calling you sir again and again *giggles* It just turns me on so bad.”

He replays the ‘Sir’ part yet again. Shit. Holy fucking shit. It had to be you. There was no way in hell it wasn’t. He thought it through and concluded. This audio maker only uploaded on Fridays and usually after dinnertime, so the timezones make sense. Also, the sweet and soft airy nature of your voice was present in all of the audios. He had thought it was just cause you had similar voices but no. This was definitely you.

He couldn’t help but go through all the audios again. Inevitably getting hard again. And eventually cumming, again… and again. The thought that you were going home and recording these very graphic audios were making him feel all sorts of things. Thinking all sorts of things.

Did you like being dominated? Did you like riding? Did you like getting eaten out? Did you like being choked? Did you like all the things you constantly made audios about? God, Steven swore he emptied his balls out to your voice.

Did you base all those professor audios on him? Cause there was a lot. And if you did… God he was definutely going to have you, one way or another and make both your dreams comes true.

Unfortunately, No grading or lesson planning took place that Friday night.

~

You were studious throughout the entirety of the weekend and the first few days of the week. Mostly trying your hardest to catch up on Professor Grant’s previous lessons in order to better your grades. You managed to prepare a long ass essay that covered your understanding of the different topics you flunked in, hoping this would change his mind.

His words ‘disappointing’ were a constant reminder for you to never settle anymore. In your head, the only way you could satisfy him was through giving him good grades. Of course, you’d prefer something else but hey, you got that all out of your system on Friday night.

Today was finally Thursday and you were in the second to the last class of the day. You were just itching to give Professor Grant the essay you made so he could give you a bright smile and forgive you for your inconsistencies. You’d give anything for him to pat you by the shoulder while eyeing you, telling you that he believed in you and all of those sweet nothings.

And so, there you were. Walking into his class directly to his desk. He sat there on his chair with his glasses framing his face. He looked unenthused but you kept a positive attitude. “Hi Sir! I made a report for the topics I didn’t perform well in, I hope this makes you reconsider-“

“I need you to stay after class, again.” He speaks plainly, without even looking up from his laptop. “Leave that there.” You follow as he says and place your paper by the edge of his desk. Taken aback by his response, you turn away and took a shameful walk to your seat.

Why did he sound angry? A bit pissed, maybe? What did you do and how bad was it?

He taught the class as usual. Announcing the objectives of today’s topic, then to the contents, a couple of descriptions and a few examples here and there. Letting you all know the ins and outs of the egyptian mythology, as he usually does.

For what felt like eternity, the class ends. He gives out a few last minute announcements as the rest of the class stood up and made their way to the door. You, on the other hand, stood up and made your way to his desk. Waiting for him to finish saying his goodbyes to the class. “See you lot tomorrow!” His smile fades away when he turns to you. You, who was literally terrified of what he was about to tell you.

Were you grades just not it and he was kicking you out of class? Oh shit, you prayed it wasn’t that.

“Please, Sir Grant, if you could just look at my paper-“

“No no, me first.” He lifts his hands up to remove his glasses, exposing his gorgeous dark eyes. “Do you make online content, Ms. Y/n?” He leans against the desk, opposite of you.

What was he talking about? The pit in your stomach got deeper and you felt like you were about to faint. Was he talking about what you think he was talking about? “I mean everyone makes online content.”

“Yes, I know, what I meant was…” He makes his way closer to you and gently slides his hand across the desk as he approaches. “…adult content…” Steven’s voice was lower than usual. He has not stopped thinking about you eversince Friday. He’d catch himself listening to the damn voice any time he could. And it drove him wild.

He needed to prove to himself it was you.

You gulped at the sight of him, he was about a few inches away from you. You’re pretty sure he’s about to tell the university and you’d be screwed. “I uh… what do you-“

“Let me be extra specific, Ms. y/l/n, do you make adult audio content by the name of BabyVixen135?” At this point he was whispering in your ear and the heat coming from his lips was making a different type of heat radiate between your thighs.

He looked at your hesitant face, smiling as you were trying to form an answer. “I do…” You were scared. Yes this was very hot, but what if he tells on you. You’d be ruined and it would defeat the whole ‘no face’ concept you liked so much.

Steven was thrilled. Inside he already knew it was you, but the fact that you were confirming it felt so surreal. He wanted you. Fuck, it was so wrong to feel this way towards one of his students, but he has wanted you for a while. This whole situation was serving as a catalyst for his lustful thoughts.

He couldn’t have you here, it was too risky. Too many possible eyes and mouths that could speak out. Carefully, he tries to plan out how to take you home. How he’ll convince you.

You were terrified at his silence so you break it, “Please don’t tell-“

His hand cups your cheek, tilting your head to look at him. “I wouldn’t dare.” You looked at his eyes as he looked into yours and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting wet.

“Tell me one thing, would you, Ms. y/l/n?” His other hand slowly caresses your waist, squeezing it ever-so slightly.

“Y-yes..?” You were shivering under his touch.

“Did you ever think about me when you made those naughty, dirty, nasty, filthy audios?” The squeeze on your waist got tighter, making you audibly gasp. “Tell me.”

“Yes, yes I did.” You admit. The next thing you knew was his lips crashing onto yours as you dropped your bag onto the floor, feeling the warmth of his touch. Melting onto one another’s skin.

His tongue licks your lips, asking for entry and you willingly let him in. It felt like you were in a dream. You weren’t sure if this was real or not, kissing the man you’ve been fantasizing over eversince you saw him.

Steven wasn’t any different. The moment he saw you, he instantly recognized your beauty. He eventually realized your brains. All your little antics and soft cues filled his days— the way you drank your water in the middle of class, the way you complained when he was lecturing too fast, the way you entered class like it was a runway. Goddamn, you stole any room and you definitely made him feel very sexual things.

But as fast as the kiss started, it ended abruptly, too. He heard you whine and felt his ego boost a bit since you were already missing his kiss. “Sorry, darling. We can’t do more here…”

“Can we go somewhere else, please?” You pleaded like a little puppy. This was an opportunity you’ve been waiting for awhile and you were gonna muster all the confidence you have in you to get this man in your damn pants.

Steven grabs his coat and his work bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He reaches his hand out to you, gesturing you to follow him. “Thought you’d never ask.”

~

You weren’t sure how it happened. It was a wild ass sensation. Getting into his car, trying not to get caught, him, carefully driving to his flat with the occassional touches and flirty gazes.

“How did you- how did you know it was me?” You adjusted the seatbelt along your chest, crossing your legs to try and contain the wet heat coming from your pussy.

Steven kept his eyes on the road, seriously considering grabbing you in between your thighs and playing with your mound during the drive. But he refrains and just answers you, “It already sounded like you. I tried picturing it as you, everytime I listened to the audios.” You blushed at his answer.

“But your latest audio confirmed it. The plot? The use of sir? God it was driving me over the edge.” He felt his pants tighten as his cock hardened. It was so difficult to resist you.

He tried to arrive to the flat faster and quicker, he wanted to just ravage your body. So. Fucking. Badly.

So fast forward. Now, you’re here. Being pushed into his flat as he slams the door behind both of you.

He pulls you in by the hand and plants peppered kissed along your cheeks, down to your lips. “I’m going to be honest, love. You’ve been quite a source of my lust…” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“You already know how I feel about you. My audios informed you.” You desperately tried to kiss him. Any part of him. Finally settling onto his neck. Soft kisses, soft licking and soft sucking.

“Why not let me experience it in real life? Hmm? Baby Vixen…?” He uses your username unironically and it kind of fits, rolling off his tongue like honey.

His words build more confidence in you, making you step back and slowly strip. You pulled your leggings down first, exposing your soft skin. Nearly making Steven groan at just the sight of you. He helps you step out of them, gently guiding you towards the bed.

Steven sits on the edge of the bed and continues eye-fucking you as you proceeded to remove your shirt. The light fabric easily slides off of your body and Steven couldn’t help but stare at the way your boobs were being presented to him.

His hand reaches out and subtly massages your tits, his cock was 100% aching and leaking pre-cum by now. “I want this off.” He peeks up through his eye lashes, pulling at your bra. “Now.” The voice that came out of him was more demanding. Yes you fantasized about him and yes that involved getting dominated, but this was just incredible.

Slowly, you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground. Exposing your breasts to the cold air of his apartment.

Steven was incredibly hungry to get his lips around those beautiful boobs. So he immediately heads in, kissing and leaving slobery licks all over your tits. His hands massage them as his lips licked around and over your nipples.

“Fuck, this is so good.” He moves you to the bed, pushing you down as he glides back up to your lips.

“You’re such a sexy fucking slut, aren’t you? Thinking about me, making audios while thinking about me.” He kisses down to your collarbones, through the middle of your tits until he was just by your panties.

Shivering under his touch, you helped guide Steven nearer to your heat by lifting your hips up. “Please, Sir, I need you to touch her. She’s fucking needy.”

“Aw, is that right baby?” His fingers trace your lips through your panties. Feeling the wetness seep through even further. “All this juice for your good old professor?” He slides your panties to the side and pushes a digit inside.

“Oh shiiiit-“ Your pussy slides around his fingers. The sensitivity was so high that you became a moaning and panting mess in a matter of seconds. It didn’t help that Steven’s tongue and lips connected with your clit.

Circling his tongue while his finger curled up inside of you. His lips lightly sucked on your clit as he adds another finger into you. Out of habit, your hands tangle into his hair to push him in. “Oh my Godddd… sir… that feels so goood.”

“Mmm.” You felt his low hum vibrate through you. Making your legs squeeze around his head. “That’s my good little vixen. Good little baby.”

His tongue lowers down to your lips while his fingers go up to your clit. His thumb pad circling it around, hitting just the right places. You then felt his long tongue dip into, while he moves it around like a damn snake. You were shaking like crazy and felt the knot in your stomach build. Ready to implode.

“Sir Grant I-I feel like I’m about to-“

“Yes baby, do it. Cum all over my face. Cum all over your dear Sir’s face.” He wildly shook his tongue inside of you while his fingers continued to press on and rub your clit.

You felt your hips thrust forward and your eyes close shut. It was the best feeling ever, his hair was tickling your thighs, his fingers were praising your clit and his mouth was curling so good.

“Fuuuuckkk.” The tight feeling in your stomach finally comes to an end and you felt your wet juices flow out of you. You lifted your head up to see Steven who was not wasting a single drop coming out of you.

“What a tasty mess, baby.” He swipes his fingers along your slit and brings it to his mouth, “So damn sweet.”

He then plops next to you removing his dress shirt and slacks. His chiseled body made you thirst, especially once your eyes saw the tall tent that formed underneath his boxers.

You adjust yourself to view his beautiful physique better, he catches your lustfilled gaze and invites you on top of him. “Straddle me, darling. I need to feel that tight pussy around me. I can’t wait anymore.” His voice was almost begging.

Immediately, you removed your panties and swung your legs over him. Your fingers pulled the hem of his boxers and made his length spring up. He saw your mouth part in amazement and grabs you by the chin for a kiss. “Were you expecting that? Hm?”

You kissed him further as you felt his length push against your pussy. “Were you expecting this cock? Do you want this thick fucking thing inside you, darling?” As a response, you nodded into the kiss as he lifted your ass cheeks up with his hands.

Your lips were being swiped by his tip, your juices and his pretty pre-cum were making the areas slick. “Put it in me please-“

“Please, what? What was it you kept calling me..?” His hands gently pushed himself into you. Not too far in but you were definitely feeling stretched.

The pressure you were feeling was enough for you to beg. “Please sir, I want it. It’ll feel so good.”

With that, he slams up into you. He grounded you in place by holding you on the hips. He was stretching you so good, your tightness wasn’t hurting you because you were too wet from cumming before.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, feeling him in you so deep that it felt like he was in your stomach. “Shit, darling you feel so good.” He kisses your breasts, leaving countless red love marks all over.

“So do you, sir. You fee-eel soo, fucking- good.” You were panting through his thrusts and felt another pit form in your stomach. Instinctively, you reached down and rubbed your clit. This catches Steven’s eyes and causes him to smirk, burying you onto him as he helps your fingers on your clit.

He was really filling you up now. You were basically just warming his length now. Soon enough he asks you to sway and grind while his entirety is buried into you. “Grind onto me baby, let me cum deep inside you while you ride your high, again. Give it to me.” He whispers onto yout flesh causing you to shiver.

You do as your told and sway your hips, left, right, front and back. It felt like you were being filled up till your chest, this type of movement was so new and made your pussy clench down onto him. He was feeling you tighten around his shaft and that sensation was so heavenly, he could stay there forever.

Your swaying began to pick up the pace as you slowly tried to ride him a bit. Feeling his length slide in you as you squeezed him again and again. “Fuccckk meee, darling. That is fantastic.” His hands grope your ass as he hissed at the feeling.

You were a sweaty, slutty and moany mess. “Sir Grant, I’m gonna- cum again…” Shakily you continued moving in the same pattern. Steven was so close too but he wanted you both to cum together.

“Me too, let’s- let’s cum together, my little slut.” He begins caressing every part of your body as you pleasured both you and him. “At the count of three.”

“One…” You began lifting your hips more while still swaying, he was groaning at your actions cause they were making it hard to control himself.

“Two, fuuuck…” His head throws back as he sees your beautiful eyes squeeze shut.

“That’s it baby, with me- thrr…three!” He pushes you down onto him as you push your head into the crook of his neck.

The sensation of his warm seed feeling you up made you smile. Laughing at the absolute miracle this situation has become. Last Friday you were just daydreaming about him and now he’s burying his load in you.

“Fuck…” You tried to move but he kept you there, your walls losened up as you felt him soften up too.

“Don’t move. Stay.” He grabs your face and pushes your hair away. The dim lighting of the apartment, paired with the moonlight made his heart flutter. Your eyes were so delicate. Your lips looked so plump. You had the prettiest face he’d ever seen and you just made him cum deep inside you.

“Sir I-“ You tried talking but he pulls you down for a kiss. His hands guide your hips to push you carefully off his length, still making you sit on his lap.

“Call me Steven, darling.”

no longer apart | obiwan

Warning: smut with fluff toward the end, rough in the beginning, 18+, dom obi-wan undertones.

Summary: Obi-Wan gets back from Geonosis, smut ensues, cuddling at the end.

Word Count: 439

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hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 

"If you insist, cariño." 

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes. 

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 

"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 

Content. Relaxed, even. 

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?" 

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 

You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 

"....Ouch." 

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

Date Night

Valentine’s Drabble Dump

Blue Jones x fem!Reader (smut)

Summary: A letter and a present as a promise from Blue

Word count: 1.3k+

Tags/Warnings: 18+, NSFW, body worship, descriptions of oral, descriptions of sex (piv), creampie, swearing, no use of Y/N

Author’s note: I got nothing to say except I wish Blue would buy me lingerie 🥺 - Cece 💖

Taglist (feel free to ignore): @yourbucky084 @literatureandqueen @veuliee2 @bluejones @itspdameronthings

Keep reading

Reblog if you’ve ever watched a tv show or movie because of one specific actor in it.

Pixel art by @euthanasian - Dance Central 3 end credits

🐛 I would just like to see a drabble with Obi-Wan during his Clone Wars/ROTS Era. Cause I am a sucker for the Clone Wars armor and that man's hands. (Why do we love hands so much 😅) and I absolutely LOVED Suppose- I read once a week at least- and would love to see your take on our feral sass king in the midst of war before Ani broke his and Padme's hearts.

🍃 It has been so great watching you gain new followers and build up this little community we have. Your writing is always beautiful and it's lovely to see how many takes you have on the same characters. I'll never tire of your fics. Congrats on the huge milestone love 💜✨️

Amour-ment

-> Rating: 18+

-> Summary: 600 words. Dirty thoughts are triggered by Obi-Wan’s hands. CW/TW: small reference to smut, smug Obi-Wan.

-> Authors Note: thank you for your lovely comments my sweet! I appreciate your love and support more than you’ll ever know! Reblogs are much appreciated! Masterlist

Your eyes are drawn almost immediately to the contrast upon his arrival back to base. The black droid oil, sticking like tar to the pale skin of Obi-Wan’s hands. There’s a flush across his nose, evidence of his exertion at taking down the droid army. He looks tired, eyes cast low as the bodies of the fallen members of his clone squadron are carried behind him.

“Obi-Wan?” You whisper softly, watching as he walks past you in his daze. His tan Jedi tunic moves in the breeze as he wanders almost aimlessly, managing to make his way to his tent.

It’s not often he’s like this. Usually he can rally together the troops and prepare them for a possible assault, but he seems helpless at this moment. It’s why you find yourself following after him into his tent, the only (almost) private place there is on a battlefield.

When you make your way inside, pushing aside the tent door to peer within, you find Obi-Wan standing over a hologram, scanning the open battlefield for advantages, disadvantages, the most opportune place to open for an attack. He has his hand up to his beard, twisting the coarse strawberry blonde hair there with a deep, heavy sigh.

“You can’t be expected to fight exhaustively,” you remind him with a small sigh of your own, approaching him slowly. There’s a slight frown on his brow, shaking his head slightly at your reminder.

“I know. It bothers you. You feel a guilt. But you shouldn’t shoulder that burden, Obi-Wan,” you insist, taking his wrist up in your hand and scanning the oily filth smeared across his knuckles with a small smile. “At least allow me to clean you.”

He doesn’t argue with you, just slumps into a seat at the table as you move to obtain a rag and some water. It’s almost painful to see the usually light hearted, pleasant man you had gotten so used to nursing struggling to muster the energy to even manage a conversation.

“No injuries?” You begin, echoing the first time you met him. Assigned to give medical aid, you remember having seen him return from his mission as the only member of the battalion not to carry a scratch.

“None,” he admitted to you, another shake of his head, “Just a mess.”

You nod, taking up his hand into your own and using the wet rag to wipe away the slick across his hands. There’s a flush on his cheeks as he watches you tenderly treat his bare skin, holding his wrists with such a delicate touch.

He has pretty hands, almost as pretty as his face. There’s veins across the back of his palm, a green-blue colour that reminds you of the waters on Scarif, and his nails are perfectly trimmed on his long, slender fingers. You imagine them ushering the force to his will, using them to stop opponents in their tracks. You envision them pressing the switch and activating his lightsaber to cut down his foe. You can picture them sweep across the inside of your thighs, teasing the lips of your cunt as they ease into your hea-

“Your thoughts, young one. I can hear them,” he reminds you, his voice thick with something that makes your embarrassed shock twist into something more like arousal as you sweep the rag over his knuckles once more. The oil is no longer there, there’s no reason for you to, but again Obi-Wan doesn’t argue.

“I-… I’m sorry, General,” you address him politely. Despite the mortification you feel at having him peer into your head and sense your less than pure thoughts about him, you are uncertain you can find it in yourself to cease your fantasies.

“I never said you had to stop.”

OSCAR ISAAC as Pelasgus Theater of War’s presentation of The Suppliants

supermassive will be all like: we’re gonna show u the biggest amount of chemistry that two characters can possible have, but guess what? they’re not going to end up together