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churchofthesluttyknee · 8 months

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A Series of Firsts: Chapter 1: First Taste

Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee

Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar

Rating: E18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1,230

Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex

Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar return to Pedro’s home after an awards show after party. Emboldened by the beauty of an early morning in LA, and a little alcohol, they discover they have a mutual attraction.

Fumbling clumsily with the key, he finally manages to get it into the lock, engage the tumbler and unlock the door. It’s a few minutes after 1am, and he’s nursing a pleasant buzz. ‘They always have so much good booze at these awards after parties,’ he thinks as the door swings open into the dark space. Gesturing his guest inside, he closes the door behind himself. When Oscar enters, he’s immediately drawn to the floor to ceiling glass walls across the room. Pedro flips on the light.

“No, leave it off. The view of the city is amazing from here. Is that the Capitol Records building?” Oscar asks, gazing in awe upon the sparking lights of downtown LA. Pedro flips the light off. Walking across the room he stands beside Oscar, staring into the early morning haze.

“Yeah; there’s a castle about halfway between us, but you can’t see it when it’s dark.”

“A castle? Tell me you’re joking! You know what? Don’t. I know you’re telling the truth because this is LA, and LA can be fucking ridiculous,” Oscar says with a chuckle. Pedro laughs in response.

Oscar gazes at Pedro, taking him in from head to toe, his form backlit by the dazzling city.

“Your hair looks really nice tonight. Did you finally find a brush?”

"Oh, you know Coco won't let me leave the house without looking fabulous!" Pedro replies, growling playfully as he turns to face Oscar.

“But seriously, it looks amazing… you look amazing,” Oscar speaks softly. He runs his fingers gently through Pedro’s hair, then quickly kisses his cheek.

Pedro playfully slaps Oscar’s shoulder, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Come on, pendejo! Deja de ser pendejo.” (Come on, asshole! Stop being an asshole.)

“Come here,” Oscar says with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Sir, I’m literally standing right beside you,” Pedro replies.

His tone husky, Oscar responds, “I’m serious. Come here.”

Oscar places his hands on Pedro’s hips and pulls him closer. Their bodies flush, Oscar takes Pedro’s hand and guides it to his cock, which is straining against his pants.

“Can you feel that?” he breathes into Pedro’s ear.

Pedro shudders at the heat of Oscar’s breath and audibly gasps as Oscar’s lips cover his own, swallowing any objections that may have spilled over. Pedro’s breath comes in heavy gasps as their kiss breaks.

“Are we really gonna do this?” Pedro whispers, hesitation clear in his tone. Seeing Oscar’s eyebrow arch he continues, “I mean, I want to! God, I want to so much… but only if you want to,” he quickly adds, his voice lowering in embarrassment at sounding over eager.

“I’ve fantasized about this for years, you know? But I was always afraid to make the first move. But seeing you tonight? Fuck.” Pedro says in a low voice, “I want you sooo fucking badly. I wanna feel the heat of your skin searing my flesh.”

“I think you can feel how much I want you to touch me, to wrap your lips around my aching cock…” Oscar says with a wicked smile. “Don’t be nervous, Daddy’s here.”

A moan escapes Pedro’s lips, “I wanna feel your cock sliding down my throat.”

Oscar slides his hands down to his pants, unbuckling his belt. Unziping his pants, he lets them drop to his ankles. Eyes dark with desire, Oscar looks at Pedro.

“Te doy permiso para que te portes mal. Ponte de rodillas, wachito rico” (I give you permission to misbehave. Get on your knees handsome.)

Without hesitation, Pedro drops to his knees, his hands gently gripping the back of Oscar’s calves as he moves in closer. Once happy with his position, he runs his hands up the back of Oscar’s thighs, squeezing his ass briefly, before sliding his index fingers into the waistband of Oscar’s boxers. After a moment's hesitation he pulls them down. Oscar sucks in a breath and moans.

“Ahh, fuck,” Pedro says, staring at Oscar’s cock for several moments, licking his lips hungrily. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he tentatively takes only the tip into his mouth, clearly insecure about his movements, but still eager.

Sensing Pedro’s insecurities, Oscar gently caresses Pedro’s cheek, “Is mine the first, the only, one you’ve tasted?”

“Yes,” Pedro pants heavily.

Being Pedro’s first pleases Oscar more than he expects. A smile forming on his lips, Oscar replies softly, “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

Still panting and out of breath, Pedro replies, “Yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Oscar says in a tone leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, Daddy,” Pedro replies obediently.

Emboldened by Oscar's words and smile Pedro finally finds his confidence. Taking Oscar more deeply, his jaw slowly relaxes as he adjusts his speed. Oscar’s fingers clutch tightly in Pedro’s hair as he guides his lover's head forward and back on his cock.

“I’m going to mess up that beautiful fucking hair of yours to keep you exactly where I want you.” As Pedro’ finds his rhythm he reaches a hand up to cup Oscar’s balls, causing Oscar’s hips to buck. “You swear you’ve never done this before? Fuuuuck, you feel so good.”

When Pedro pulls away to answer, Oscar says, “I didn’t say you could stop.” Pedro takes Oscar’s cock into his mouth once more, sucking with greater enthusiasm. “Fuck, I’m getting close, mi tigre.” In a gasping breath Oscar asks, “Are you thirsty baby?”

A deep moan rumbles from inside Pedro’s chest, “Yes, Daddy, I’m sooo thirsty.”

Looking down into Pedro’s eyes, Oscar can see a smoldering desperation to please him there. “Do you want it all? Every last drop?”

Nodding eagerly, eyes locked on Oscar, Pedro shudders. His voice almost pleading, he answers, “Yes Daddy! All of it… in my mouth. All of it.”

The sound of need in Pedro’s voice makes Oscar buck his hips a little too enthusiastically, causing Pedro to gag and cough. Oscar pulls back, reading Pedro’s eyes for confirmation that he’s okay. “Oh shit!! I’m so sorry…but you can take it, can’t you?”

Pedro licks his lips, “Yes, god yes. I want… I want it so much.” He leans back down, his mouth back on Oscar’s cock. Sucking, hollowing out his cheeks to take Oscar deeper. His hand still on Oscar’s balls, squeezing and pulling, gently but firmly.

Oscar's body begins to tremble, his orgasm not far now. “Fuck! God, yes… I’m gonna… oh… yes.” Oscar’s hands grip tightly in Pedro’s hair as he thrusts himself into Pedro’s mouth, over and over again. With a few more thrusts, he lets go and cums, white hot spurts of his load shooting down Pedro’s throat. As Oscar’s thrusts come to an end he gently pulls out and drags a finger along Pedro’s lips to wipe away the glistening remnants of his cum.

“That was amazing. You were amazing,” Oscar says. Lifting his chin, Oscar leans down and kisses Pedro deeply, revealing in the taste of himself on his lover's lips.

Oscar offers his hand, helping Pedro to his feet. They stand silently for a few moments, smiling. Pedro gives Oscar a quick kiss on the lips. “Thank you Daddy.”

Oscar slips his arms around Pedro’s waist, pulling him closer as he links his hands behind the small of Pedro’s back. “Por supuesto, mi tigre. Haría cualquier cosa por ti.” (Of course, my tiger. I would do anything for you.)

#A Series of Firsts #P&O #Pedro and Oscar #Pedro Pascal #Oscar Isaac #The Church of the Slutty Knee #ASOF #Space Sisters #Latino Space Sisters #Slutty Knee #Church of the Slutty Knee #Slutty Space Sisters

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writefightandflightclub · 9 months

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Also made these. (First baby steps in procreate. Need to do some actual tutorials but honestly I enjoy the experimentation.)

The top one is based off my Incorrect quote, which eventually I hope to turn into a full comic panel. (Once I know what in the hell I’m doing :P)

#moon knight #khonshu #steven grant #hardly polished but I’m having fun playing around :P #oscar isaac #Luna’s wonky art

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possession1981 · 16 days

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i love exceptionally talented beautiful male actors who honed their skills on the stage and have the ability to embody a searing fragility and deliver a lifechanging monologue while being utterly unafraid of being strange

#tony perkins harry perrineau lee pace etc #oscar isaac also btw i wish he wasn’t always being so stupidly miscast #p

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justdoityo · 1 year

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I've watched a few episodes of the mandalorian now an I regret to inform that baby yoda actually is kinda cute.

#oscar isaac ive failed you 😔😔😔😔#p

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bansheesofinisherin2022 · 1 year

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just found out that daniel craig is a really big csh fan ...

#he's gonna have to fight me and oscar isaac and will arnett and edgar wright and adam driver and....#to be fair adam driver and channing tatum were probably only on that one csh concert because of mr craig #p

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fake-bleach · 11 months

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all mine | miguel o'hara x reader

summary: You have an unspoken rule with Miguel O’Hara. He takes care of you, he provides for you, and in return, you let him take what he wants.

word count: 2.2k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), literally porn no plot, unprotected piv sex, implications of free use but also not rly, slight choking, dirty talk, roughish sex, no foreplay (straighttt to it), use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), coming inside, i think that's it lolll, !no atsv spoilers!

i know this isn't p but i watched spiderverse last night and had to get him out of my system + i adore oscar isaac <3 working on two joel fics rn so expect those :)

ao3 link | masterlist

The ruffling of your sheets weren't nearly enough to wake you from your sleep. But, the pressure of Miguel's body on yours was.

It always was.

"Hey, baby.. It's me," he whispers in your ear, his hands and arms practically consuming you as they roam across your entire body. With you laying flat on your stomach, his hips and chest press so tightly against you.

It runs chills down your spine; the force of his pent up cock in his rigid suit as the sultry voice fills your hazy mind, barely wakening from your deep slumber. His lips plant desperate kisses on the back of your neck, lowering the more he lifts your flimsy pajama shirt up and up and up.

He never did really like you wearing anything to sleep.

Your sluggish murmurs barely register to him, a soft, “Mmphf," and "Miguel.." making him almost instinctively say the same words he always does when he comes to you.

"Yeah.. Missed you too, cariño." He mutters out, his hands already reaching for your shorts to lower them along with your panties, not taking a single second to waste. The small kisses he plants on your lower back never slow, giving you that bit of reassurance which almost sends a surge of energy through you.

He was always so needy with you; never putting much effort to make any small talk. He was here for a reason and you knew that.

But, you didn't mind it one bit.

The cool air from the sudden exposure on your skin sends shivers throughout your entire body, making you tremble just enough to force a faint laugh out of Miguel's throat.

It's that same laugh that makes you crave him; the deep, heavy tone of it making your eyes flutter open with need already soaring through you and your core.

His fingers trail down to your inner thighs, almost teasing you with the gentle glide of the tips, wanting to force those little noises out of your mouth, which he successfully does. Your faint whines just make him grin, knowing that you need him.. just as much as he needs you.

He drifts them over your soft folds, nearly hissing out at how wet you already were. It makes him chuckle, your whimpers growing louder the more he touches you. "Already soaked for me, honey? Bet you were just waitin' for me to come see you.." He whispers out lowly, his lustful eyes fixed onto your glistening cunt.

His fingers take their time, faintly pressing against your entrance and swiping through your lips, gathering the wet slick that you were so graciously providing for him.

It always makes this so much easier for him.

You moan out, turning your head just enough to catch a glimpse of his body and the movement of his free hand releasing his cock from his suit, and the sight makes your mouth water.

He desperately guides the tip of it through your folds, getting ready to indulge himself into your warm heat. The feeling of his cock pressing into you makes you groan, gripping onto the sheets as butterflies flow through your stomach and core, hole clenching around nothing.

You needed him so bad already, just like you always did.

Mouth falling open, you whimper out, "please.." and all it does is make him laugh, smirking as he glances up at you. "Need me that bad, baby? Barely getting started.." He rasps out, nearly pressing the head of his cock into your cunt, but just enough to get him a taste of you.

He groans out, his hands now moving up to squeeze your ass eagerly before slapping it. The harsh sound and the sting of it makes you cry out, thrusting your hips against the sheets in attempt to get some kind of friction.

"Fuck, missed this pretty pussy.. Gonna cherish it.. fuck it.. just like you need, honey." He lets out with a faint hiss, taking his time to start pushing his cock inside of your tight hole. The girth of him makes your walls constrict around him, gripping onto him tightly as he presses himself into you, each inch making your jaw fall wider and wider.

You've been at this too many times with him, but you never get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

It doesn't take too long until his hips are flush against your ass, the tip of his cock piercing so deeply inside of you and filling you up to the brim. It has you letting out small pants, eyes almost rolling all the way to the back of your head at how heavy the air feels around you, how full you feel.

Your face lays on the bed, the side of your cheek pressed against your pillow as your eyes gaze onto Miguel's hips and large body nearly covering you entirely. He licks his drying lips, staring up at you for a moment to look at your face.

He coos at you, almost patronizingly. "Too much?" he teases, "Fucked you so many times, baby.. n' your cunt's still so tight around me."

His head tilts down to stare at the sight of your walls wrapped around him and slightly pulls out as he lifts your thigh up a bit, just enough to see you clench around him involuntarily. It makes him groan; the feeling of your warm pussy enough to wash all of his problems away.

That's why he was here, anyway.

His hips begin to create an unrelenting pace, slowly yet surely making your entire body push and pull into the mattress over and over again, every force of his cock hitting you harder each time.

The echoing smack of his hips slapping against your ass and thighs fill the room entirely, along with your moans growing louder with each thrust. The recurring sting of his skin leaves you breathless, letting out small gasps as you grip onto the sheets tighter.

Miguel doesn't take a second to rest, making sure he slams his cock into your cunt to the brim, using every inch of your hole as if it were only his to use.

He lets out short, hoarse moans each time he enters you. The squelching noises your soaked pussy gives out makes him smack your ass, your slick coating his cock and nearly running down your thighs.

The sounds make your cheeks burn, his mocking laugh forcing a groan out of you as he moves his body forward to lay his chest on your back now, the weight of him keeping your waist and stomach flush into the bed.

The pressure of him feels intoxicating, your breath hitching as he leans his mouth towards your ear. His grunts are the only thing that you can hear now, along with the faint sounds of the constant slaps of his hips against you. It's so filthy, yet you crave it every time with him.

His grunts now turn into whispers; faint, heavy breaths that you can barely process from how full and fucked out you felt.

It's almost like you're going in and out of consciousness, hardly registering what he was saying, until you hear, "Good fucking girl.. Lettin' me use you like this, fuck, taking such good care of me.."

You whimper out in response, his words making that heat in your stomach and core rise. The praise, yet degrading things that Miguel tells you always leave you wanting more.

His hips begin to slow down now, instead taking his time to pull his cock out of you, letting the tip of it rest against your entrance. Lifting his head from your shoulder, his eyes travel from your bare skin back to your ass. He shoves himself back into you, harder with each thrust so you can feel every inch of him, taking you completely.

You cry out at the intrusion, the harsh force making your eyes roll back as you whine out his name. The push of his cock reaches that spot deep inside of you, forcing your eyes wide open at the overwhelming sensation.

His name on your tongue drives him insane, lifting one of his hands from your ass to reach underneath the weight of your head, wrapping his fingers around your throat. He feels your heart pounding beneath his fingertips, his grip on you tightening just to see you gasp with his eyes fixed on your face now.

He moans your name, his coarse voice making you tighten around him, "There we go, sweetheart.. Think I hit a spot, yeah?" He murmurs out, your groans giving him the answer he needed. The repetitive movement of his thrusts never relent, Miguel making sure that the pace and aim of his cock stay the same.

Your body shudders at the feeling, sending waves of pleasure through your core as you feel him buried to the hilt. You breathe out, desperation seething out through your teeth, "Yeah, Miguel, s-shit, yeah..", feeling your orgasm build up the more he fucks you.

"That's it, honey, let me hear you say it.. Who's fuckin' you this good? Who's gonna make you come, baby?" He pants, thrusts growing faster as he chases his own release, needing to come with you.

Another smack of his large hand on your ass makes you gasp out, eyes shutting tightly as you force the words out of your lips, "You, Miguel, fuck, s'always you.. no one else.."

Your confession goes straight to Miguel's cock, pride growing at the knowledge that you give yourself to him and only him. He grits his teeth, groans slipping out of his mouth while he reaches between your stomach connected to the bed, pressing his fingers against your clit.

"Yeah, baby? I'm the only one who can fuck this pretty pussy, that right?" He urges out of you, hardly processing his thoughts before he can speak them, "You're mine to use? Mine to fuck when I want, huh?"

His words mixed with the pressure of his fingertips on your clit, pressing small, tight circles on it has you moaning out spurs of nonsense; mindless, fucked out noises, with the way his cock slams inside of you over and over again. You feel so full, the heat and coiling inside of your stomach and core increasing.

You whine out, biting your swollen lips, "F-Fuck! Yeah, yeah, m' yours Miguel, all fucking yours.." you breathe out, "Yours to fuck, whenever you want.. Yours to use; whatever you want, Miguel.."

Admitting that shouldn't have felt as good as it did.

You never thought you'd be able to speak like that, much less degrade yourself in such a way; not until he came into your life.

Not until he ruined you for everyone else.

His chest presses tightly against your back, lips back in your ear as he grunts into it, "That's my girl.. knowing your fuckin' place, that's right.." His hands press into the small of your back, forcing your stomach into the bed. You didn't think it was possible for you to feel even more full, but the way he buries his cock to the hilt has you seeing stars.

The quick circles on your clit with the force of his hips has your stomach tightening, coiling up as your walls constrict around his cock, making you come without any warning at all.

Your head lifts, pants and moans escaping your throat with your eyes shut. Miguel's voice encourages you, his fingers on your clit slowing, though his hips never let up. He lifts his chest off from your back to gain better leverage now, hands gripping onto your ass as he pounds himself into you.

The pressure of his cock into your sensitive, spent cunt has you wailing out, whining at the overstimulation. Miguel just uses you and your abused hole, chasing his own release as his cock twitches. "Shit, honey, gonna come, gonna fill you up, fuck," he groans out in rushed breaths.

You clench around him involuntarily, the spasms of your pussy and orgasm hardly to your own control, letting out, "Fill me up, baby, ruin me, please.."

Your words were enough to push Miguel right to the edge, the sudden halt of his thrusts making you gasp out as he buries himself deep inside of you, painting your walls with hot, thick streams of come. He lets himself fall against you, chest pressed into your back with his hips up to the hilt of your hole.

The mix of your heavy breaths and his pants fill your ears and the entire room, the air filled with the scent of sex as you both fall from your highs. Your chest fills with air, heaving up and down with each breath you take as you stare at Miguel, taking in his figure entirely.

You could never truly allow yourself to actually feel for him; you knew that would never be wise, but you can't help the words that escape your mouth.

"Stay tonight?"

Miguel just lifts his head to look into your eyes, giving you a small, tired smile. "Yeah, honey.. Thank you..” he breathes with a press of his lips to your shoulder, “I needed this.”

"I know."

a/n: idek if this made any sense bc i wrote it so quick but idgaf i need him <3

reblogs are appreciated!

send me requests & i might write it for you! :)

wanna be on a taglist? fill out the google form in my pinned post!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #spiderverse smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader #fake-bleach #my writing #i need him so bad

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wildspringday · 11 months

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oscar isaac via instagram

#sirrrrr <3 #p: oscar isaac #photography!#*mine #mine: edits #oscar isaac

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 9 months

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Infected

Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: An accident at one of Alchemax’s labs has led to Miguel being briefly contaminated with cA1m - a prototype drug that is meant to calm animals. However it seems to have a very different effect in humans.

A/N: A massive thank you to @midgardian-witch for reading the beginning of this (catching a hilarious typo), making some excellent suggestions, and reassuring me that I hadn’t just lost my mind completely (yet).

Reader doesn’t know Miguel’s spiderman.

Warnings: dubious consent - it’s basically a sex pollen fic, blood, hair pulling (can I write a fic without an Oscar Isaac character getting their hair pulled?), so much cum, hand job, oral (both m and f receiving), things get a little rough, face fucking, cum eating, biting, scratching, p in v sex, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 5433

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“It’s mainly preliminary.” You said with a smile. “You weren’t in the room, but the filtration system links four of the labs.”

You check over Miguel’s notes, so far, he didn’t have any symptoms.

There had been an ‘accident’ in Lab B2, an accident that was being rapidly looked into. Lab B1, and B4 had been empty, but Miguel had been in B3.

Miguel was currently in a rapidly repurposed testing room, sitting on the bed with his shirt rolled up his forearms. His specific request for somewhere with reinforced walls, doors and windows had been… unusual. But he was a big guy, couldn’t hurt to be too careful.

“How are the others doing?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Okay,” you nodded. There had been eight people in Lab B2 when the container had broken. Two people, like Miguel, weren’t showing any symptoms.

The chemical compound, nicknamed cA1m, while liquid in its storage unit, turned to a gas at above zero degrees. Luckily it also denatured quickly, and there was a good chance that those who still weren’t showing symptoms were unaffected.

The chemical’s intention was for a more humane way to calm wild animals and livestock during veterinary checks. That way the animal in question didn’t need potentially dangerous anaesthetic for basic to mild level medical care.

It also wore off in 24 hours.

However, it still needed some work. And while early tests had gone well, apparently it did not have the desired effect in humans.

Four of the six infected had gone feral, absolutely crazy with rage, trying to kill and destroy everything and everyone within their reach.

Luckily no one had been severely injured before they had been tranquilised.

The other two were different, they had… other urges.

“Have you found any links as to why Doctor Guerrero and Doctor Vaughan didn’t react like the others?” Miguel asks. His voice was calm and controlled, like it always was. Politely interested, like he was listening to a presentation about your latest control data.

“Well, I have an idea. Though I haven’t fully proven it yet.”

He tilted his head to the side in a silent question. The action was endearing, it made your heart flutter and heat rise to your skin. And you hated it so, so much.

You smiled quickly and looked down, trying to cover the fact you’d been staring at him for a second too long.

“So,” you continued, drawing the word out a little to give you a pause of breathing room. “Both Guerrero and Vaughan are in relationships, both of them wanted to,” you pause for a moment, trying to find the most professional way to phrase it. “get to their partners. Unlike the others they also had a massively increased level of oxytocin.”

“Your theory is that that cA1m causes a berserk level of rage unless the subject is in love?” There was the smallest smirk on his lips.

It sounded stupid when he put it like that.

“Well… yes.” You fold your arms. “Look, Miguel,” he grinned when you said his name and you fought, and lost, the urge to smile back. “I’ve had fourteen hours and six people to base this off, plus three who are showing no symptoms. Give me a break, yeah?”

He held up his hands playfully. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You gave me a look.”

“What look?” He teased.

“I know you want to be trying to figure this out yourself, but you’re the one who insisted on not being allowed any breakable, or expensive, equipment while you’re in here.”

He smiled. “It’s true.” His gaze was heavy, crushing almost.

You shook your head and turned to the side table. “Anyway, are you gonna let me draw some blood or what?”

He nodded and held his arm out to you.

You know why you had been ‘nominated’ (begged) to be the one to see Miguel. He wasn’t the easiest CEO to work for in the sense that he was both physically and mentally intimidating, but what usually threw most people was that he was quiet, tended to watch and listen.

And he had a bit of resting bitch face.

But he was actually pretty pleasant to talk to when you got to know him.

You brushed your arm against his as you moved to get your equipment. Miguel audibly gasped.

A flash of worry pinched at your mind, you turned to look at him. “You okay?”

Miguel nodded; he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Obviously in distress.

“Miguel?” This wasn’t the same as those who had suddenly developed into a full-blown rage, but still you couldn’t help the sense of apprehension that crawled along your skin. You glanced at the sedative on the side table and shook your head.

“Miguel?” You spoke again, a little softer and moved a step closer towards him.

He shuddered at your voice, screwing his eyes up tightly. Sweat was beading on his forehead, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Miguel, I’m gonna-”

He moved faster than you could comprehend, one second he was sitting on the bed and the next he was looming over you, his hands clenched tightly around your biceps, and forcing you back.

You yelped as he pressed you into the wall, grabbing hold of his forearms.

His eyes were dark and wild, brimming with a terrifying energy.

“Miguel, wh-”

He crashed his lips into yours, swallowing down your words and slipping his tongue into your mouth frantically. It took you a fragment of a second to react, surprise freezing your limbs solid.

Miguel took your delay to his advantage, pushing his knee between your legs and pressing close. Not leaving a fraction of space between you as he devoured your mouth. Stealing your breath and igniting heat along your veins.

“Miguel,” you managed to push him back, the heels of your hands in his chest. This was the cA1m affecting him, it was the only explanation. Maybe the filtration system had diluted the chemical and caused a delayed reaction. “You need to-”

He snarled, his eyes pinpoint focused on you as he leaned forward and kissed you, hard. All tongue and sharp teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and gripped your thigh bruisingly tight, hitching it high on his hip.

You’d had dreams like this, fantasies, where he pinned you to the wall and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. But you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t take advantage of him like this-

There was a sharp pinch of pain as Miguel sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You let out a small squeak of surprise, pulling away from him. And raised your hand to your mouth, your fingers coming back red.

Miguel, however, seemed unphased as he trailed kisses along your neck, smearing your blood along your skin. He ground his hips into yours, rocking back and forth and- oh god, he was big, just like the rest of him.

“Miguel, you need to,” you swallowed down a whimper as he sucked at your pulse point, just managing to resist the urge to hold him closer, to run your hands through his hair. “It’s the cA1m, you’re not thinking straight.”

He murmured something into your neck, his mouth not leaving your skin far enough for the words to be intelligible.

“Miguel-” You gasped as he nipped at your throat, not enough to break the skin this time.

Heat was burning from his skin, scorching into your body like you were too close to a flame.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back a fraction too forcefully. You thought the brief pain might snap him out of it, give him a second of clarity. But as his chin tilted upwards, exposing his neck, he let out a long groan, his eyes squeezed shut.

It went straight to your core, your thighs clenching at the sound.

“Need you so bad, shit,” he rocked against you harder, pressing his length right up against your centre. “Always need you, you don’t understand,” he moaned and buried his head back into your neck, despite your grip on his hair, and sucked a love bite into your skin.

This time you couldn’t resist the urge. You sunk your fingers deeper, scratching your nails along his scalp and pulled him closer, pushing his face in your neck.

Miguel groaned appreciatively, digging his sharp nails into your shoulders. He nipped just below your ear, the keen, yet sweet little sting of pain blended with the slow and steady roll of his hips was simply tortuous. Almost enough to make you lose all common sense.

Almost.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you just couldn’t do this.

“Miguel-”

He whined as you said his name.

And you had to bite your lips together in order to hold onto your fading self respect.

“On the table,” you swallowed, trying to get your words out quickly, “there’s a sedative. It’ll help, it’ll-”

“You’ll help, being near you helps.” He mumbles, the words barely audible. He snakes his fingers along your ribs, just teasing the hem of your shirt.

“We just need to-oh!”

Miguel grabs hold of your shirt and pulls, ripping it open, buttons pinging off and going flying. Honestly, there’s less resistance from the material than you expected.

And then he's everywhere, his face buried in your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers pinch at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

You can't stop the moan of surprise that escapes your lips as you arch into his touch.

You had to stop this, now. Before he did something you'd very much enjoy and he'd very much regret.

"Fuck," you hiss under your breath and act quickly, trying not to overthink and get yourself caught up.

Maybe if he… had some relief you could grab the sedative in the afterglow. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even need the sedative if he came once.

Before you can lose your nerve you quickly unbuckled his trousers and managed to squeeze your hand under the material despite Miguel's frenzied mind trying to keep the physical space separating you both to a minimum.

He gasps as you touch him, letting out a choked sob that your brain was already committing to memory and filing under 'for use later'.

The velvety soft skin was rock hard and burning hot against your hand. So big that you couldn't even get your fingers fully round his girth.

"Please." He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands resting tightly on your waist.

His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth slightly open and when you moved your hand, the smallest upwards movement. He let out the sweetest sigh.

You bite your lip and wince as you catch the broken skin, but it doesn’t stop you from tracing your thumb over the tip of him, smearing precome along the head. You were trying to be quick, methodical, clinical, as you began to stroke him, setting an even pace. This was just a problem to solve. You should not be enjoying this.

But every glide of your hand, every touch, made Miguel gasp and moan as if it was the first time he’d ever experienced such sensations, made him bite his lip with his sharp (had they always been that sharp?) teeth, and it was intoxicating.

He pistoned his hips into your touch, thrusting faster and faster, and practically growling as he grew closer to his release.

You couldn’t help but watch him, enraptured, as heat pooled in your lower stomach, your own need growing. But this wasn’t about you.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself rocking back and forth against his leg ever so slightly to just take the edge off.

Miguel grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head, and there was a sharp pinch of pain as he tightened his grip on your waist, his nails digging in much harder than they surely should have been able to.

He swore under his breath as he cums, twitching under your touch, and coating your hand and stomach with his release.

There’s so much of it, far more than there should be as he cums and cums, gasping for air. Another side effect of the cA1m - perhaps you’d be annoyed as his release soaks into your ruined shirt if the sight of him reaching his peak wasn’t exhilarating.

You let go of him quickly, managing to disentangle yourself from him, despite Miguel low, exhausted whine of protest.

God, how were you going to get a new shirt without running into someone? And, you realised, probably a new pair of trousers too. Miguel’s spend had run down and soaked into the left side.

You grabbed the sedative from the side table. Your mind already racing, it wasn’t Miguel’s fault but would he remember? Would he be awkward with you now? Would your little chats and jokes stop? You swallowed down a pang of fear and turned. Now wasn’t the time for what ifs you-

Miguel grabbed your arms and you squeaked in surprise. How could he move so silently? His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, his trousers just hanging from his hips and… well, obviously so much for the idea that him cumming once would be enough.

“I need you.” He growled, his voice so low that you almost felt light headed. “I know you want me too, I can smell it.” He leaned forward scraping his teeth over your pulse point, and for a shameful moment you let yourself get caught up again, allowed yourself to revel in the sensation for the smallest second.

While he was distracted you pushed the needle into his upper arm, through his shirt, and injected the sedative.

It shouldn't take long.

He growled, pulling his mouth away from your neck to stare dangerously into your eyes.

You swallowed. A spike of fear dug into the base of your skull, some ancient urge telling you to run.

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, unsure if you were really talking to Miguel or yourself. “It’s just the sedative.” You pulled the needle out of his arm. “You’ll be fine, let’s lay you down so-”

He kissed you hungrily, harsh and demanding as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

You allowed yourself to kiss him back the smallest amount as you waited for the sedative to work.

And waited… And waited…

Oh, no, just no, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be right. There was more than enough in the injection to knock him out and yet he didn’t show any signs of slowing down.

Okay, so, this definitely wasn’t how it went with the others.

You side step, trying to twist past him and break his hold all in one movement. Maybe you could get to the door, maybe you could do… something. Your mind raced, there had to be a way to fix this, to help him, to be useful.

The side step didn’t work, Miguel’s grip was too tight, and you stumbled, skidding around and to your knees. The edge of the bed thumped into your back.

You gasp, gulp and stare up at him. That spike of fear dragging itself down your spine.

He growls and moves closer, his length bobbing and perfectly at your eye level. His gaze is dark and desperate, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. You could see his pulse thundering in his neck, echoing along the length of his dick.

Rapid heartbeat was one of the side effects all the others had experienced, the sedative being the only thing that had managed to return it to a normaler level.

Maybe there was only one way you could be useful.

Miguel shifts his weight, preparing to move, but you lean forward first and run your tongue along the length of him.

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as you touch him, a gasp of breath. The sound floods heat to your core.

You wrap your lips around the tip, grabbing hold of his hips to pull him closer as you swallow as much of him as you can. You bob your head, encouraging him to move with you and there is a moment where you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain in his thighs as he tries to hold back, to keep himself in check.

It doesn’t last long.

He snarls and thrusts forward, snapping his hips and nearly choking you. You splutter, trying to breathe through your nose but Miguel doesn’t give you a second to recover. He pushes forward, the back of your head slamming against the edge of the bed as he plunges deeper and deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease and still not even half way in.

Your grip on his hips tightens and you don’t know if you’re trying to pull him away or urging him on.

It burns, the size of him makes your jaw ache, tears roll down the sides of your cheeks from the force of his relentless thrusts.

His hands dig into the mattress by the side of you head, tearing into the fabric as he pounds into you, fucking your mouth with everything he’s got.

He groans, “yes, baby, yes,” his voice low and barely distinguishable as words.

You do your best to just hold on, to breathe and take as much as you can. The sounds of his moans filling your ears and mind, and god, how you wished you didn’t have a gag reflex and could take him deeper.

He keeps ramming into your mouth, snapping his hips against you with a frenzied energy and you push against his lower back, silently begging him to keep going.

Your neck throbs from discomfort, bruising forming where the skin is repeatedly hitting against the hard outline of the bed frame. Your knees burn from where they continuously rub against the floor with every buck and thrust.

Miguel lets out a short, animalistic cry as he cums down your throat suddenly. You moan against him, trying to swallow all of it but there’s just so, so much. It spills out of the side of your mouth and down your chin despite your best efforts.

He leans forward, breathing hard, his cock still in your mouth. And for a second you think this is it, the sedative will take hold or maybe this mindless lust has come to an end.

But he’s still hard when he pulls himself out of your mouth, his eyes still glazed over with the same madness when he looks down at you. He runs his hand over your chin, the pads of his fingers slightly sharp, and collects some of his spend that hasn’t trickled down your neck and onto your torn shirt and bra. Another item of clothing you’d need to change.

He smears his cum along your cheek, the movement possessive, like he was marking his territory.

There’s a pause, the lull in the eye of the storm before he pulls you up from the ground with a shocking display of strength, moving as if you were no heavier than a glass of water he was eager to drink down.

You can’t help the little yelp of surprise that escapes you as he practically throws you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress and momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs.

But then he’s on top of you, pressing himself firmly between your legs as he growls and snaps his teeth close to your neck. He bites at your throat, hard enough to break the skin and you cry out as the pain quickly disappears into pleasure.

Your mewls only make his actions more frenzied as he tears your clothes completely off you with a speed that makes your head spin, before removing his own. The material rips so easily, as if he used a blade.

He runs his tongue along your chest, messily cleaning up the cum he’d spilt along you just moments before.

“Miguel-” You try to start, but then his mouth is back on yours, tasting like salt and iron as he drinks down your words to leave you breathless.

You gasp as he breaks away, trailing sloppy kisses down your body, his fingers running over your skin and leaving scratches. He bites your hip partially deeply and you keen, arching up into him as he moans.

“Your so fucking sweet.” He mutters before kissing lower and lower and, oh god. You nearly scream as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard. Pleasure coils tight in your belly as a new wave of wetness leaks out and soaks into the torn up sheets beneath you.

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes his face into you, only breaking away so that he can lick through your folds hungrily, devouring you like a starving animal.

“Miguel!” You whine, letting out a series of high pitch moans that sound alien even to your own ears.

He sucks your clit once more, his teeth just grazing across it before he snarls and pulls away, pushing the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest with a crushing strength.

You struggle to take a breath, barely filling your lungs before he’s thrusting into you with a guttural groan and a sharp snap of his hips.

The size of him hurts, it’s too much, too fast and you gasp in pain. You clench your jaw, your eyes screwing up as your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back even though you know it’s no use against his strength.

But he stops instantly, stilling his movements.

You stare up at him in surprise. His eyes are still dark but there’s something else there, something pushing through that lust haze.

“Pain?” He whispers, sounding the most like his old self that he has since this ordeal began.

You swallow and nod, tears building at the corners of your eyes.

He slowly loosens his grip around your thighs, letting go shakily as if it is taking a lot of self control to do so. And while he doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t thrust in deeper either.

Carefully, he manoeuvres your legs down onto the bed either side of him, watching your face for any sign of increased discomfort. It’s only then that he looks down to where you’re joined, completely split open with only a quarter of his length inside.

He groans lows and you brace yourself for a brutal thrust that never comes. Instead he keeps his hips still as he slowly trails his sharp nails down your stomach, teasing the very edge of your clit before pressing his thumb against it fully.

A small moan escapes you and you clench down instinctively. Miguel hums in approval and starts to slowly circle the bundle of nerves, the touch light and soft as he just borders on the edge of losing control.

The pain starts to dissipate quickly, replaced with a steady continuous build of that deep need from before. You start to squirm. The pressure of his thumb isn’t enough and you rock your hips ever so slightly, your breathing hitching in your throat.

"More?" He whispers.

You nod your head rapidly.

“Thank god.” Miguel sighs, the words mumbled like a prayer almost too quietly for you to hear, and lets some of his weakening control slip.

Slowly he pushes further in, the tension shaking in his thighs as he fights with every instinct to pound you into the mattress and turn you into a crying mess beneath him.

He keeps circling your clit, groaning as feels a fresh wave of wetness leaking out of you.

You moan, grabbing hold of his shoulders. But this time you pull him towards you, urging him deeper. God, he’s big. Already it’s like you can feel him in your throat.

The stretch burns, but it’s good, it feels right. Like he is going to reach a whole new devastating part of you. Make you cum so hard that he’ll ruin any other sexual partner for good.

You hook your left leg on his hip and squeeze your calf over his lower back, encouraging him closer, deeper. While you plant your right foot firmly against the bed to rock up against him.

Miguel groans, his eyes closed. His movements on your clit falter as he slides further in.

There’s a sharp pain in your hip where his left hand holds you tight, his nails (it had to be his nails) dug in so deep that they broke your skin.

You let out a soft whine, clenching around his girth as he presses up against you perfectly and still pushes further in. The pleasure in your stomach tightening and starting to completely overwhelm all other thoughts, urging you to just chase your release.

Tears prick again at the corners of your eyes, a soft emotion beating hard in your chest. And you can’t help yourself, you grab hold of the back of Miguel’s neck, pulling him down towards you and arching up at the same time to kiss him hungrily.

He moans into your mouth, pushing back against you and forcing you into the mattress. His hips snap forward, finally sheathing himself completely in your tight, wet heat.

For a moment it’s like you can’t breathe, so completely full that not even air can enter.

Miguel stills, giving you a moment to adjust as he licks into your mouth and groans as your walls squeeze around his length. His pubis bone presses firmly against your clit, and you can feel the echo of his racing heart beat along his skin.

He breaks the kiss to breathe hard, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t… I need to…”

“Please,” you answer desperately, kissing him softly as you start to rock your hips ever so slightly.

Miguel lets out a whine, his eyebrows pinched together in bliss and the expression alone is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot.

“Can’t stop,” he mutters and you're not even sure if he’s aware of what he’s saying anymore as he grabs your wrists in either of his hands and pins them to the bed. “Feels so…” He ruts into you, pulling out so that just the tip of his cock stays inside before slamming back into you. “Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.”

You wail under him as pleasure runs up your spine and down your legs as he punctuates every thrust with an upwards rock of his hips, continuously rubbing against your clit and pressing the head of his length to that perfect spot inside.

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He growls. His nails are slicing into your wrists, but you don’t care. Can’t care, you’ve lost all ability to feel anything but the glide of his cock and the heady build of your orgasm.

“So. Mine.” He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You cry out, the brutal pace of his hips only increasing, bringing you closer and closer and-

You gasp, his name catching in your throat as you finally cum. Every muscle shaking as it crashes over you in waves.

Miguel tears his mouth away from your neck, blood shining on his lips as he watches you come undone. He moans, his thrusts not faltering for a second.

“That’s it, cum all over me,” he glances down for a moment watching himself disappearing into you, amazed at how well you’re taking him, how tightly your walls are griping him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Squeezing me so tight, oh shit-”

He cums loudly, still pistoning in and out of you as he fills you up with his release. There’s still so much of it, some leaks out, spilling out of your abused hole and sticking to your thighs.

You breathe deeply, your mind foggy from how hard you came. Your legs ache from being stretched so wide, your pussy throbs from overstimulation.

Miguel doesn’t stop, still rock hard and trusting. Pushing his cum deeper into you.

“Miguel,” you whine, your throat raw.

“I can’t-” he bites his lip, “I can’t stop, I need to, fuck, please, I need to-”

You kiss his neck, biting harder than you normally would at his jugular. He whines, the sound going straight to your core. Heat starts to build again.

“Keep going,” you mutter against his skin. “Keep going as long as you need to.”

You wake up sore and sticky. Aching and in pain. Even the slightest movement brings out an array of discomfort. Every muscle throbs, like you had done a year's worth of exercise in one day, and all the bites and scratches sting as you shift, the scrapes making you feel like someone had tossed you naked into a bush of brambles and thorns.

It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the tiredness in your bones trying to coax you back to sleep.

“I’m sorry.”

Miguel’s voice makes you jump. He’s still close to you, laying on his side with his chest pressed up against your back. One arm around your waist. There’s tension there, you know he wants to move away but is scared to move at the same time.

His cock is pressed against your backside, soft and sated.

You turn to look at him, too tired to worry about your nakedness. Besides, he had seen plenty of it anyway.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

He scoffs. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks down.

It’s only then as you turn around completely to look at him that you see tears in his eyes. “Miguel?”

You softly touch his cheek but he flinches away from you. The action spikes through your heart. He can’t even look at you now.

“I’ve got everything to be sorry for, I, I took advantage of you, I rap-”

“No, no, no, no,” you can’t help but touch him again, putting your hand back on his cheek and rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin.

This time he leans into it, letting out the smallest, shaky breath.

“You were infected, Miguel, you couldn’t control yourself. I don’t know how much you remember but the sedative didn’t work, and your heart rate was just, I mean, it was crazy high. And, if anything, I was the one that took advantage of you and-”

His eyes snap open. “You? You took advantage of me?” He says disbelievingly. “Look at you.” He touches the bite marks on your neck gently.

You give him a little smile. “I don’t mind.”

He breathes out another shaky breath, but there’s a hint of a smile. “You don’t mind?”

You shake your head. “Happy to help.”

He chuckles a little at that and nods as he runs a hand through his hair.

There’s a pause, a silence that you can’t stand.

“I guess I was wrong.”

Miguel frowns a little, confused.

“My theory, about people having that reaction if they’re in love, I mean.”

There’s a pause, the only sound a little gulp as Miguel swallows. Something passes over his face for a second, a faint trace of heat rising to his skin.

Oh. Maybe you weren’t wrong.

“Miguel?”

He breathes deeply, looking down. “I-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, letting your adrenaline overwhelm you as you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. Hoping against hope that you weren’t misreading the situation.

He’s caught by surprise for a moment, but moans happily and softly kisses you back as his arm wraps around you and pulls you close.

The kiss is slow and gentle, languid and sweet. It makes your stomach drop like you were falling from a great height. His embrace the only thing keeping you safe.

He runs his tongue over your bottom lip lightly, careful of the cuts, but licks into your mouth hungrily the second you part your lips. It’s not the same lustful need from before, this is deeper, sharper and desperate in a different way. As if after devouring your body he now needed to devour your soul.

He kisses you again, lightly before you both pull back for a second. He grins at you, a little shyly and you smile as you stroke his cheek.

“You weren’t wrong.” He muttered.

You frown and shake your head, confused.

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Your theory about love.”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes

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im-poe-dameron · 5 months

Text

THE HEART OF A SHIP

a/n: this fic is a result of wine and rewatching the force awakens. honestly my brain always short circuits whenever oscar isaac comes on screen. so i had to do something. it was meant to be small, but i literally couldn't stop writing so it became this. it's an idea that has been lingering in my head for awhile, i just had to let it simmer for a bit. and now it's fully cooked.

summary: you and poe were inevitable. two asteroids set on a course to crash into one another. a celestial event that would happen whether you wanted it or not. you just never expected it to happen so soon.

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption, love confessions sort of??, poe being romantic as fuck, p in v sex, guided masturbation, biting, sex in an x-wing, sex in a public place, unedited but we live and die by the fucking pen.

Intoxicating.

That was the only way you’d describe him. The only word that ever did him justice. He was the human embodiment of an Antakarian Fire Dancer. You got hammered on it one year after two glasses of the amber liquid, proceeding to forget half the night yet eager for more. Nothing could describe the man before you better. It simply wouldn’t do him justice. He was the itch beneath your skin that you could never satisfy, the reason you stood there now.

A glass of that amber liquid in both hands.

He’d disappeared from the celebration. An hour in from congratulations and happy faces, you watched him leave when no one was looking. And you did nothing to stop it. You knew he wasn’t one to relish in the joys of battle well done. Always intent on focusing towards the next thing—the next fight. It’s how you knew Leia would make him General, why he was so good at leading, at keeping the people he loved safe.

“Leaving without saying goodbye is rude, you know.”

He jumped slightly where he stood, his back to you, a holopad in one hand and a tool in the other. Of course he’d be here, fixing his X-Wing in silence. His own little ritual. You couldn’t count how many times you found him here after a fight, finalizing the last few checks before he caught some sleep. If he slept at all. Poe always seemed to be on the move no matter the time of day—a constant in the Resistance even when everyone else seemed to have lost faith.

“I said goodbye,” he joked, head turning slightly to see you come around, the holopad getting traded for a glass. “Just couldn’t see you in the crowd.”

You smiled. “You’re a shit liar Dameron.”

“I know.” He took a sip, winced, and laughed—the sound practically lighting you up inside. Igniting you like a fucking lightsaber.

“What’s the damage report?”

“Nothing I can’t fix.” He glanced back at the scraped up hunk of metal he loved more than anything. The amount of care he put into keeping her going was admirable—if a little insane at times.

But he was right. The damage was nothing he couldn’t fix.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” The smile still played on your lips, eyes alight and aiming to start something you wanted him to finish.

Poe caught onto it quicker than you expected. He could see it before you followed him out of the celebration. A promise that lingered in the air from months of longing looks and timid words. Something inevitable and real. So much so that you were willing to bet everything that he felt exactly the same way you did.

You wanted each other. That was clear from day one. But doing something about it became difficult when war was a constant and lives were put in peril on the daily. Poe didn’t want to leave you broken beyond repair if he never made it back. Just as you didn’t want to do the same to him.

The fucked up thing about it though was Poe would mourn you either way. He’d live his life half a man if you never graced him with your presence again. If you weren’t around to smile at him from across rooms and laugh at his shitty jokes. He was pretty sure he’d already started. Being away from you was like a poison he constantly had to take, a pain he didn’t want to endure. And if it were up to him…he’d choose you every time.

No matter the consequences.

“You ever been in an X-Wing before?” he asked, trying to see past the bits and pieces of the ache that hurt you both.

You rolled your eyes and Poe felt his chest tighten. “You know I haven’t. I’m not pilot material.”

“Sounds like bantha shit to me starlight.”

The name you’d heard so many times before echoed differently to you now. You wanted to break through its meaning and find the promise within. The antidote to this fucking ache that stuck to your chest. You wanted to rip it out and grind it up. You wanted to finally take what you desired, relish in the feel of calling him yours without the pain of knowing what came next. The both of you were trying to save your emotions—protect yourselves—but there was no use.

Poe had found a home in your heart and he was there to stay.

“Come with me.”

When it came to him you had no choice but to listen, following dutifully behind in a haze of want. He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship, plopping down into the seat with the grace of a pilot who’d done it a million times before. The movement now muscle memory at this point. Whereas you clambered up—buzzed on one drink—nearly falling into the cockpit. He grabbed your arm at the last minute, helping you slowly maneuver your way in, until you were perched on this lap.

The seat was barely big enough to fit him let alone you as well. And yet…you’d never felt more comfortable. He pulled you back slightly, hands pressed to your hips, chest snugly placed against your back. With every intake and exhale of breath, you felt him move. Felt his body shift. If you focused, you knew you would be able to feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump you’d grown accustomed to.

“Now—“ He precariously balanced his glass on the dash. “Your hands go here.” Covering your hands with his, he showed you how he’d position himself if he were flying. The cold touch of the buttons and knobs beneath your fingers sent electricity up your spine. “These are to shoot.” Another shift. “And this is to aim.”

You sucked in a breath. “Seems complicated.”

“Not at all.” His fingers slid up your arm, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You tried to remember how to take a single breath. “You just have to understand how the ship works. How she moves, what she likes.”

Your breath hitched, body leaning into him more, and finally you felt it. The wall holding both of you back crumbled to the ground. All that remained now was the will to finally do something about it. So you let his hands guide you, watching in anticipation as they moved to your own body, pressing your palms into your stomach.

“There’s always a heart of a ship,” he murmured, moving your hand down. “A pilot guiding the way.”

“Poe…”

"After all, we've got to guide the ship back home." A soft whimper left your lips, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs to contain yourself. If the cockpit of his ship wasn't so fucking small, you had no doubt you'd be spread on his lap, lips connected to his already.

He grinned, his lips brushing across the back of your neck. “For me…” He stopped right above the hem of your pants, your fingers aching to finally delve down further. “That’s always been you.”

The alcohol had all but burned out of your system from how warm you were. His touch guiding yours seemed to have lit something in the base of your stomach, causing it to spread outwards. And you needed more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed your hand beneath the coarse fabric of your pants. The feeling of him cupping your mound—using you all the while—sent a jolt across your body; a soft moan falling free past your lips.

“Maker starlight,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He wasn't wrong. You could feel yourself dripping the longer he spoke, his words affecting you more than you anticipated. Ever since you first met, Poe always held a power over you. A reminder that no matter how many times you tried to rid yourself of him, no matter what you did...he would remain burned into your soul. He'd be part of you until you drew your final breath in this galaxy.

"It's cause of you," you gasped, your fingers and his sliding through your slick. Running along the lips of your cunt, skimming past your clit entirely. "Oh—"

The scrape of his teeth along your neck nearly did you in entirely, the plea hanging off the tip of your tongue in anticipation. He was toying with you. Playing you like a fucking instrument and listening to your melody. Drowning in the sounds you made—the ones he dreamed of. If there was a life after this, a fated place he could go to rest, he'd want it to be here. Crammed into this cockpit with you on his lap, the feel of you sliding through his fingers and the echo of your voice breathing his name sweeter than the alcohol you had handed him earlier.

Poe would do whatever he could to make this moment last just a minute longer.

"Need you."

He kissed the junction where your neck and shoulder met, fingers still guiding yours through your own heat. "I know you do starlight. But you're gonna cum for me like this first." Your sweet little gasp ripped him a part. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off nearly coming in his pants. "Let me guide you."

You nodded and spread your legs as wide as they could go in the cramped space. It wasn't very far, nor did it give him space to do what he really wanted to do to you, but it would have to do for now. The noise of the celebration in the distance only grew louder as people consumed more alcohol, the joy bleeding into the air. But you couldn't give a shit at that moment about why they were happy, or even what occurred before today.

You were lost to the depths that Poe pulled you into.

Heat spilled between your fingertips, a sticky mess starting between the two of you, but that seemed to only drive him forward. He pressed down, sliding your fingers into you with ease, his delving in right beside you—stretching you in a way that had your back arching. Wrapped his arm around your waist, he kept you still, his chin set on your shoulder and chest heaving with controlled breaths. A way for him to keep the last bits of his sanity as he felt your walls clamp around his fingers.

"Fuck baby," he grit between clenched teeth. "You really did need me huh?"

Nodding, you felt him press even further, fingers searching for something.

"You're gonna make a mess on me." Pumping his hand, he felt your body shudder—your mouth falling open as a ragged moan echoed in the ship. "Gonna take me so easily. I'll slip right in."

You burned from the inside out. A searing heat pulling tight across your body until you could nothing but fall into it. There was no fighting against that aching bliss, no running from what you wanted, what you dreamed of. Poe was intent on breaking you apart right there on his lap, and he'd watch with a smile on his face as you spilled yourself between the rough pads of his fingers. As you made a fucking mess on his lap.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, curling his fingers forward and nudging against something blinding. You cried out, hand grasping at his wrist to either pull him away or keep him right there. You couldn't tell at this point. And he smiled. "Is that it?" Rubbing against the spongy patch along your walls, he felt your entire body lock up, a whimpered sob breaking from your chest. "Yeah. That's fucking it."

You tried to warn him, his name a garbled echo of nonsensical letters on your tongue. But he already knew. His hand sped up, practically pushing your fingers out of the way as he gave you everything you wanted. Poe was certain that he wanted this more than you, that deep down he needed to know that you came because of him. That he was capable of turning you into a sobbing mess.

The echo of his pained grunt was loud in your ears, his hips pressing up into you to relieve the pressure of need he felt, and that's what did it. The knowledge that he was as gone as you were. That he had always wanted you.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, a splintered moan falling past your parted lips as the pleasure spilled over. And he buried his face into your neck, a broken sound of his own muffled by your warm skin. He fought against finishing, biting into your shoulder as he worked you through your release. Adamant to make this last for you—to drag you to the Maker and back with a sated smile on your face.

Eventually you couldn't take it anymore, pleasure bleeding into pain, and you dragged his hand away. A breathless sigh of his name shooting right to his cock.

Without knowing it you had broken him for anyone else. Obliterated his ability to ever see someone the way he saw you.

You and your beauty. Your ability to render him speechless, breathless, and at your fucking mercy. For so long he was the ship lost in space with no sense of direction to lead him back to something real, a purpose. But then you settled into his heart. You became his pilot, guiding him through the never-ending void of space. You kept him afloat even as the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him down, happy to watch him crash and burn in as so many others had done before.

"That was new," you giggled, hand reaching back to run through his hair.

He smiled, his heart twisting in his chest and fingers still covered in your slick coming to grip at your hips. "To think..." Pressing your ass down against his hard cock, he felt the breath hitch in your chest. "We could have been doing this the whole time."

"W-What a loss," you breathed, that now familiar all encompassing need filling your veins once more.

As if he knew your body so well already, he began to pull at your pants, helping you strip yourself to the best of your ability. The soft clinking of his belt echoed loudly in the cockpit and for a moment you were sure that people in the distance could hear it. But that thought quickly left your mind the second you felt the hot skin of his cock pressing against your lower back—his precum wet and sticky now smeared against your skin. Saliva filled your mouth, the ache pulling at your chest, clawing its way to the surface.

You didn't simply want him. That was too small of a word to explain the feeling in your body. You breathed for him. You lived for him. Poe was the blood that streamed in your veins, the reason your heart beat the way it did. Because it beat for him.

"Say you want this," he grunted, grinding against your skin, his fingers digging in harder than before. Until blood nearly pricked at the surface.

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth before he could even finish speaking. "Maker, I've wanted this for so long."

A growl hit your ears, his nose pressed into your back as he lifted you slightly, and you felt like you would rip to shreds if he didn't hurry. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding into you with slippery ease. And you pressed back against him, desperate to feel him sink into you fully. To be stretched out around his cock. Poe choked on his breath when your warm heat encompassed his throbbing length so suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge entirely.

"Fuck starlight. You're gonna have to give me a second."

Your lips curled up into a grin. "Yes, General."

For a moment Poe could only process the breaths he took, the word entering his already blank mind. It wasn't until a searing heat shot up his spine at the sound of his title leaving your lips, did he fully understand. His hips pushed up into you, forcing him to sink just a bit deeper. You clutched at the side of the ship, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. The position had him pressing right along your walls, the underside of his cock grinding blissfully against you.

"I used to think you had no idea." He pushed you up slightly until his cock was halfway out and he glanced down, moaning at the sight of him covered in your slick. Only to pull you back down hard. Your choked cry was like music to his ears. "Didn't know what you do to me. How my whole fucking body belonged to you."

"Poe—"

He repeated the movement, smiling at the noises that came free. "But I was wrong."

A pressure quickly built in the base of your stomach, threatening to destroy you. And you chased it. Meeting his thrusts, you fucked yourself on his cock, hands pressed to the dash in front of you and back arched to find the perfect angle that made your toes curl in your boots. Ragged breaths filled the space, accompanied by broken moans and stunted grunts. Each one louder than the last as you both took and took and took, until the very edge of bliss mounted in your bodies.

He gripped the back of your neck, hand fisting at your hair as he pulled you back roughly against his chest. And you fell into it. Whining his name when he grinded up slowly, your walls clamped down around his cock. You could barely see straight through the burn of tears that glazed your eyes, a fucked out expression painted perfectly on your face. And Poe wished he could see you from where he was, catch a glimpse of the way your eyes rolled back, neck on display for him to bite.

"You know exactly what you do to me, starlight." His mouth fell open in a silent moan when his balls drew up painfully, cock throbbing along your walls. He quickly shoved his hand into your slick, fingers locating your clit with ease.

"Maker—" You heard him bite out your name like a prayer he couldn't get out fast enough. A plea for you to give him everything you had, everything that made you who you were. "I'm— Fuck I-I'm—"

"Yes," he groaned, using his other hand to cup your chin and pull your lips to his. Finally kissing you after years of dreaming it would happen. "Fucking give it to me baby."

His tongue licked into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made with ease. The feel of his lips against yours shoved you towards your release. A muffled cry of his name echoing in his mouth as your body went taut, thighs quaking as you gushed on his cock. He choked, mouth open and panting against yours, following you instantly and spilling into your cunt—filling you until you were sure it was dripping out of you and gathering at the base of him.

"Yours," he sighed against your lips, thumb running along the top of your cheek. "'M yours."

The twist of your heart brought you down from your high, your eyes fluttering open as he stared at your kiss swollen lips, the way his spit smeared along your bottom one. You expected him to take it back once he slipped out of you. Surely this was nothing but a dream, a moment in time that may never happen again. But in his eyes you saw devotion. You saw the inevitable future that was always bound to happen.

"Me too."

He smiled, nose brushing against yours. "Guess we're stuck with each other starlight."

"That doesn't sound too bad to me, General."

He tsked under his breath, fingers coming to grip your chin—brown eyes flashing up to meet your gaze. "You're causing trouble."

You grinned, grinding on his softened cock that was still buried deep in you. "And if I am?"

The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, slowly growing hard with interest. "Hands on the controls baby." He nipped at your bottom lip. "You know what to do."

A soft flutter filled your stomach as you followed his direction. Taking the lead in a dance that you were now familiar with. With Poe everything came with ease, as if you'd gone through it with him hundreds of times over. And guiding him home was just the beginning.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron smut #poe dameron #my writing

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churchofthesluttyknee · 6 months

Text

A Series of Firsts: Chapter 5 - First Reversal

Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee

Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar

Rating: E18+ MDNI

Word Count: pending

Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex

Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar celebrate their birthdays in Brooklyn and Los Angeles. Pedro asks permission to take control, Oscar accepts the request with a little bit of hesitation.

Notes: This chapter takes place 5 and 6 months after Chapter 1 in present day and via flashback.

Tag line: “I want to fuck you, Daddy.”

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[Oscar narrates]: “Las palabras se volvieron miradas. Las sonrisas permiso para seguir adelante y disfrutar de lo que tenemos juntos. Nuestra conexión llegó a un nivel de confianza y de total entrega. Confieso que te confío cada molécula de mi cuerpo y mi alma. Sé que no me harás daño…empiezo de cero contigo , dejando mis miedos y recuerdos atrás. Tus ojos tiernos, y a la vez llenos de candela, guían mi corazón. Sí, soy todo tuyo, mi Pedrito.”

(“Words became glances. Smiles permission to move forward and enjoy what we have together. Our connection reached a level of trust and total surrender. I confess I trust you with every molecule of my body and my soul. I know you won’t hurt me... I’m starting from scratch with you, leaving my fears and memories behind. Your eyes tender, yet full of fire, guide my heart. Yes, I’m all yours, my Pedro.”)

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Act I: The Admission

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<exterior: outdoor patio of a quaint coffee shop>

The sun has started to set, turning the horizon a brilliant shade of orange-red. Strings of Edison bulbs flicker to life in crisscrossing patterns above the patio while fairy lights twinkle in potted trees scattered throughout the dining area. Most of the tables are occupied as Pedro and Oscar exit the cafe. They make a bee line to an empty table near the center of the enclosed area. A few minutes later a barista leaves two cups of coffee and two pastries on the table. Pedro and Oscar are deep in conversation.

“He was being so bossy! If things weren’t going exactly his way, he’d start barking out orders left and right. You know me, I try really hard to get along with everybody, but the whole time I was sitting there thinking ‘I only take orders from one person, and it’s definitely not you, sir.’ I mean, where does he get off being so… I dunno, bitchy?”

Oscar looks at Pedro with a sly, knowing, grin when Pedro says there’s only one person he takes orders from.

“And you’re such an obedient boy, mi tigre. What did you say to him? What did you do?”

“I didn’t say, or do, anything. You know how I am about confrontation. It gives my anxiety anxiety!” Pedro sighs.

“You’ve got to work on being more assertive. I know you have it in you.”

“Speaking of being more assertive…” Pedro begins shyly.

Oscar looks at Pedro with a sideways glance, waiting for him to gather the courage to push forward.

“I… I was thinking. Maybe… if you wanted to, um… Maybe we could try something?”

“I’m listening, mi tigre,” Oscar says patiently.

Oscar already has a pretty good idea of Pedro’s train of thought, and is happy to indulge him. In fact, he’s more than willing to indulge Pedro in any of his desires, as he’s told him several times before. All Pedro has to do is ask. That was the only stipulation Oscar wasn’t willing to compromise on as they’d learned the in’s and out’s of their relationship over the past six months.

After Pedro is quiet for a few more moments, biting his lip in that bashful way he does, Oscar leans in and whispers softly, but with a firm edge to his tone, “Mi Pedrito, you know the rules. You have to ask for it. How can you take something if you aren’t willing to ask for it?”

Taking another moment to find his courage, Pedro finally speaks.

“You know I absolutely love our dynamic. Having to ask permission, the thrill of knowing I could be refused, it turns me on so fucking much. But…” Pedro leans in close to Oscar, who is now sitting with his chin resting on his palms. “I want to fuck you, Daddy. I want to feel you clenching around my cock as I make you cum,” he says quietly, his words so soft they’re almost lost in the ambiance of the crowded patio.

Oscar reaches a hand across the table, placing it over Pedro’s. The smile that spreads across his face makes Pedro grin in turn.

“I won’t lie to you, Pedrito, I’ve not been in a submissive position in a long time. The last time I was, it wasn’t a healthy relationship, and it burned me on the idea of ever giving up control again. But for you, mi amore, I’m willing to give it another try.”

As they leave the cafe Pedro takes Oscar’s hand, fingers intertwining. They’ve been so careful not to show public displays of affection, for fear of the paparazzi seeing, but Pedro is feeling very bold tonight.

Looking at Pedro with a surprised expression Oscar asks “Are you sure?”

“Nunca he estado más seguro de nada en mi vida, mi luna y estrellas,” Pedro whispers into Oscar’s ear. (“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, my moon and stars.”)

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Act II: The Drive and the Storm That Followed

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The drive back to Pedro’s place isn’t long, but it is long enough for them to start a discussion about this new dimension of their shared journey. Oscar goes into great detail about the toxic relationship he’d been in. It was his first time being with another man, and his first experience with BDSM. Oscar explains how his naivety, and eagerness to please, was ultimately the reason the relationship failed.

“That’s why I was so upset with myself in those first few days we were together. I felt like I was being just as manipulative and uncaring as he was. I’d always told myself that, if I ever got into another serious relationship again, I’d be better than that. Yet, there I was, doing the exact same shit to you that he did to me,” Oscar says, his voice rising in his frustration.

“But Oscar, you didn’t manipulate me! Everything we did those first few nights…” Pedro sighs contentedly. “I was a very willing, and eager, participant! And you were so gentle and patient with me. Allowing me to come into this in my own time, under my own terms. Baby, don’t ever compare yourself to him. You are the most amazing, beautiful, caring person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And I’m so thankful to be able to share this journey with you.”

While Oscar explained to Pedro that it was a very traumatic time in his life, he assured him that it also helped him understand what not to do going forward, even if he almost messed it all up right from the start. The more in-depth the discussion became, the more Pedro realized just how lucky he was, having someone as caring and generous as Oscar to help him navigate this new path.

As Pedro parks the car, the sun sets behind the horizon, allowing the city lights to take center stage. He grins as he unlocks and opens the door, gesturing Oscar inside. It feels just like that night, oh so many eons ago, when they stumbled into this same room at one in the morning. The air crackles with the same electricity, the same feeling of anticipation. The only real difference is that this time, they are only drunk on love.

Standing in almost the exact same spot as where it all began, Oscar gazes out into the city below before finally opening the sliding glass door and stepping outside. The night is filled with the chorus of hundreds of crickets, and the air is sweetened by the delicate scent of golden currant. Pedro joins Oscar on the balcony, encircling him in a warm embrace and tenderly bestowing kisses upon the nape of Oscar’s neck.

“God, I still can’t get over how amazing this view is babe. How are you not sitting on the balcony every night watching the city move?”

“On the nights I’m actually home I do sit out here for several hours. But my schedule has been so hectic, and it’s going to get even more so soon. But on the nights I can’t sleep, I’ll lie in bed and stare out into the night. Doesn’t happen so much anymore, because these past six months I’ve been sleeping very well,” Pedro says softly, resting his chin on Oscar’s shoulder. Their eyes reflect the sparkling lights of a city that never seems to sleep.

“I hope I’m at least partly responsible for you finally being able to get a good nights sleep.”

Kissing Oscar gently on the cheek, Pedro breathes softly in his ear, “You absolutely are, mi luna.”

Oscar takes Pedro’s hand and gently kisses the back of it several times before turning to face him. Caressing his face, Oscar pulls Pedro into a soft kiss that quickly turns fevered. Pedro strengthens his grip on Oscar’s hips, urging him closer. Obeying his unspoken command, Oscar steps into him, walking them backwards, until Pedro is flush against the glass wall and Oscar’s body.

With a firm and commanding grip, Oscar seizes Pedro’s wrists, elevating them above his head. The action radiates a sense of dominance and control. Oscar’s fingers intertwine around Pedro’s wrists, restraining any movement below. Oscar keeps his hands suspended in the air, rendering Pedro vulnerable and powerless. Oscar knows Pedro wants to take control, and he will absolutely let him. But not tonight, not yet.

Continuing to hold their hands high above Pedro’s head, Oscar bites Pedro’s neck and pants into his ear, “Fuck baby, I need you so badly, need to be inside you.”

The atmosphere crackles with tension as static electricity builds. Suddenly, jagged streaks of lightning slash across the heavens, illuminating the landscape in brilliant, fleeting bursts. Thunder follows, a deafening roar that shakes the very foundations beneath their feet. Torrential rain suddenly pours down in unrelenting sheets, reducing the city to a mere blur of distorted shapes. The wind howls and screams. Like the storms sudden appearance and building intensity, Oscar can feel the passion, desire and longing igniting deep within. Their passionate kiss ends, leaving them both breathless, gasping for air. They scramble inside, closing the door behind them.

“Holy shit! Where did that st—,” Pedro begins, but is cut short when Oscar’s lips crash into his, somehow more fervent than before.

Gripping Pedro’s face in his hands once more, his touch neither delicate nor painful, Oscar kisses Pedro hard as he blindly navigates them to the bedroom. They’re both soaking wet from the sudden rain, their clothes clinging to them like a second skin. Once in the bedroom, Oscar begins to remove Pedro’s clothes, and then his own, with a palpable, frantic urgency. Sensing the desperation in Oscar’s movements Pedro yields to the whirlwind he’s found himself in. His lover has always been passionate, but this was beyond passion. This was primal, carnal. Pedro allows himself to be swept up into the storm as it reaches a feverish pitch.

Kissing him once more on the lips, Oscar grunts loudly, spins Pedro around and bites his neck again. Placing a hand between Pedro’s shoulder blades Oscar bends Pedro over the bed and grabs the lube from the nightstand. Moving with precision and speed, Oscar has them both sufficiently lubed and is ready to push forward when he hears Pedro whimper softly. He’s unsure if the sound is eager anticipation or if Pedro’s bracing himself for unwelcome pain.

“Breathe baby, breathe,” Oscar purrs as he positions himself against Pedro and gently penetrates. “I give you my word that I won’t exceed your pain threshold… unless you want me to.”

Pedro pants heavily as Oscar moves achingly slowly within him. The feeling of chaos still hangs heavy in the air, and Pedro doesn’t want it to dissipate because Oscar is afraid of going too hard.

Gripping the comforter, Pedro moans desperately, “Faster, Daddy! Ride me hard, and don’t you fucking dare slow down until you hear me screaming ‘nova’!“

Oscar grips Pedro’s hips, increasing his tempo, his thrusts almost in sync with the brilliant lightning that continues to illuminate the sky. Thunder crashes with every breath as rain continues to thrash the glass walls overlooking the city. Oscar leans in and kisses Pedro’s shoulder before licking a line to his neck, which he kisses and licks until he leaves a bruise. One hand firmly gripping Pedro’s hip, Oscar raises his other to Pedro’s neck, covering the fresh bluish purple spot. His fingers flex and release around Pedro’s throat.

“Fuck,” Oscar gasps as he continues to ram into Pedro. “I need you to check in, baby. Talk to me.”

Panting raggedly, Pedro responds, “Moonlight, moonlight! Don’t stop Daddy, please!”

Oscar’s hand still around Pedro’s throat, he turns Pedro’s head to the right, kissing him hungrily. Releasing his grip, Oscar slides his hand across Pedro’s shoulder and around to his chest. He applies firm pressure there, signaling Pedro to lean back, enabling them both to stand upright. His hand remains still for several moments, sensing the rhythm of Pedro’s racing heart mirroring his own. Moving slowly, Oscar's hand travels at a languid pace across Pedro's abdomen, the muscles rippling beneath his touch. His fingers continue to roam, spreading gently as they pass over Pedro’s naval, before finally wrapping themselves around his cock. Pedro covers Oscar’s hand with his own, and they move in unison up and down Pedro’s shaft.

As the storm reaches its crescendo Pedro and Oscar reach their climax. Oscar gently kisses Pedro’s neck and shoulder, murmuring terms of endearment softly against his glistening skin. Legs weak, Pedro pulls two pillows and the comforter from the bed, which they spread out on the floor. Oscar lies down on his back, and pats the spot beside him. Pedro lays down, snuggling in closely, and rests his head against Oscar’s chest. He listens to the strong beat of Oscar’s heart as it begins to slow to a steady rhythm. Oscar runs his fingers through Pedro’s wet hair, twirling little curls around them. As the rain begins to ease they fall asleep wrapped in each other’s embrace.

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Act III: The Dawn

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Delicate rays of sunlight filter through a heavy fog, gently illuminating the dimly lit bedroom. Oscar and Pedro nestle beneath a cozy comforter on the floor beside an unoccupied bed. Metallic surfaces catch a glint of sunlight, causing Oscar to blink rapidly as he attempts to adapt to the shifting play of shadows. Pedro lies on his back, sound asleep and snoring softly. Oscar props himself up on his left elbow and stares at his sleeping Pedrito. He lets out a profound sigh, experiencing a sense of contentment he hasn't felt in ages. Oscar gently lays his right hand upon his lover's chest, finding solace in the reassuring, unhurried rhythm of Pedro’s heartbeat.

His fingers trace delicate lines over bare chest and stomach, drawing nonsensical letters and messages in an unspoken language. Pedro shifts in his sleep, a grin stretching his lips, yet remains undisturbed in slumber. Distant thunder rumbles as rain begins to fall. Oscar gazes at Pedro with a crooked half grin of his own while he continues to draw. With careful and deliberate intent, his fingers trace a slow path down Pedro's torso before vanishing from sight. A salacious grin curves his lips as his wandering fingers are met with taut, unyielding flesh that twitches under his caress. Running his middle finger gently up and down his length Oscar inclines closer, tracing languid circles with his tongue around Pedro's aroused nipple before enveloping it with his lips.

A gentle moan escaping Pedro’s lips, he adjusts his body slightly, but still does not wake. Oscar wraps his fingers fully around Pedro’s hard cock and begins to stroke him slowly. As Oscar ascends, his tongue charts a course towards the underside of Pedro’s chin, delicately grazing his nose against the tender skin, gently nudging upwards. Turning his focus to Pedro's exquisite neck, Oscar plants kisses and applies gentle suction until a fresh, darker bruise emerges, nearly mirroring the one he left the night before.

Pedro purrs quietly, turning his face slightly left, unconsciously allowing Oscar better access. Oscar places gentle kisses on heart shaped patches of exposed jawline before moving back down the column of his neck. Before he moves on, Oscar leaves a third love bite on Pedro’s exposed neck. Placing individual kisses, at equal intervals, his path continues down Pedro’s rising and falling chest and along the centerline of his stomach, until he reaches the edge of the comforter, which rises and falls in time with Pedro’s breathing.

Oscar shifts his weight, moving from his elbow to his hand, before pausing briefly to pull the comforter back. He licks his lips hungrily, staring at his lover on full display. He stares for a moment, captivated, before moving back slightly to sit on his knees. Ones he’s comfortable he takes Pedro’s cock into his hand and gently kisses the tip before running his tongue along its length, from base to tip. Moaning in anticipation, Oscar takes him fully into his mouth. He proceeds deliberately, relishing each moment with an unhurried rhythm. Balancing with his left hand, Oscar delicately cradles Pedro's balls, rhythmically flexing and easing his fingers while his tongue maintains its caressing strokes along the shaft.

Pedro's passionate groan fills the air as he weaves his fingers into Oscar's hair, giving a soft, controlled tug. Encouraged by the sounds he’s eliciting, Oscar increases his pace slightly, taking him deeper with each descent. Pedro is half awake, but remains still, not wanting to accidentally startle Oscar into stopping. Feeling that marvelous tension starting to hum in his core, radiating through him like volts of electricity, Pedro begins to roll his hips in time with Oscar’s movements. Wide awake now, Pedro moans loudly as his cock twitches inside Oscar’s mouth, his orgasm rocking him so fiercely his entire body vibrates.

“Well, good morning to you too, beautiful. Wish you’d wake me up like this every morning,” he says with a satisfied smile.

‘That can definitely be arranged, mi tigre,” Oscar purrs, wiping his chin clean.

Propping himself up, Pedro takes Oscar’s fingers, glistening with his own cum, into his mouth, licking them clean. Oscar grips Pedro’s chin gently with those same fingers and kisses him deeply.

“What time is it?”

“Just after 7:30.”

“That’s so early, mi Luna. Can we go back to sleep for a little while longer?”

Lying back down, Oscar envelops Pedro in a gentle embrace as Pedro snuggles up against Oscar’s chest, his favorite spot. They’re both asleep in minutres.

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Act IV: The Assignment

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When they awake a few hours later the sun has disappeared behind a blanket of dull, gray April clouds. The heaviness of the air promises more rain. Pedro sits on an outdoor sofa with a cup of coffee. Oscar lays beside him, his head resting on Pedro’s lap. Oscar strums an unrecognizable, but hauntingly beautiful tune on his new guitar. A gift from Pedro to celebrate Oscar’s 40th birthday, they had spotted it in the window of a vintage music store in Manhattan. A 1931 Gibson L-1 Custom with gold flowers and vines, Oscar had fallen in love with it instantly, practically dragging Pedro across the busy street to look at it. They had almost been hit by no less than three cars and were cursed at in just as many languages, but they made it across in one piece.

Oscar had protested when Pedro told the shop owner to pack it up, but Pedro had insisted, telling him he could always pay him back in moonlight serenades. And Oscar had done just that. After attending the opening night of a new off-broadway production they had returned to Oscar’s place, an old apartment building he’d completely renovated himself. On the rooftop Oscar played several songs for Pedro, some that were widely known, some he made up on the spot. The waning crescent moon and a sea of stars shone upon them as they made love on the rooftop for what seemed like an eternity, before falling asleep under the stars.

It wasn’t until the following morning that Pedro first floated the idea of experimenting with their dominant and submissive roles. Pedro explained that when he was with a woman his dominance was always assumed. While he did enjoy that assumption of power he found it wasn’t as satisfying as what he shared with Oscar. With Oscar it was the thrill of the give and take, and he found that being ‘allowed’ felt more liberating than knowing he ‘could’ just because he wanted to.

When Oscar had asked Pedro what he imagined doing in a dominant role, however, Pedro had come up short. In his other relationships he was more or less there to meet his own needs for physical contact. A quick release was just a bonus. The reciprocity with Oscar was something he hadn’t realized he needed as much as he did, so he wanted to do it right, less he disrupt their delicate balance. So they spent the rest of the morning, and early afternoon, talking about what they wanted from each other and how they wanted to achieve those desires. Even then Oscar was hesitant about giving over control, but did his best to hide it. Pedro was finally growing more confident in his role and Oscar didn’t want to discourage him by telling him the loss of control scared him.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, baby steps. The first thing you need to do is to ask yourself if you want to take control. Once you’re sure that’s what you want, we can figure out the semantics. There’s nothing wrong with wanting that control, but the thing about control is you have to be willing, and able, to take it, but also be careful to wield it properly. Dominance and submission are like a symphony. They require trust, harmony, and a shared rhythm between partners. Each note, a gesture of power or surrender, creates a beautiful composition of intimacy and connection.”

Oscar pauses, searching for the words to best convey his feelings. They’re back on the rooftop and Oscar is strumming an idle tune as he speaks. Pedro sits across from him, a dreamy look in his eyes. When Oscar starts speaking again Pedro blinks rapidly, drawing his attention back to Oscar’s soothing voice.

“Communication becomes the conductor, guiding our movements and tempo. As the conductor, you listen, interpret, and respond to the cues, ensuring that we’re both attuned to each other's desires, but also each other’s limits and boundaries. As the music swells, so does the intensity of the connection. It's a dance of vulnerability and strength, where each of us finds our unique role and power within the dynamic, creating this masterpiece of intimacy that resonates long after the final note fades into the night.”

“Wow, that was beautiful. Expressing it that way makes it a lot easier to understand.”

“I wish I could say it was all me, but I read it somewhere a while back, and it just kinda stuck with me. The beauty of it all is how it ebbs and flows, ever changing and evolving. Sometimes it’s hard to remember, outside of this, that submission can be just as liberating as control is empowering.”

“I definitely think it’s something I’d like to try, if that’s ok?” Pedro asks meekly.

“Mi Pedrito, you have such baby girl energy. We’re gonna need to work on being more assertive. I’m gonna give you a homework assignment of sorts. For the rest of the time we’re in the city, I want you to assume that anything you want to do to me, with me, or have me do to, or with you, is allowed. If it’s not, I’ll tap out with a safe word.”

“Anything? Are you sure?” he asks in an uncertain tone.

“Anything darling. I might just surprise you with what I’ll let you do to me,” Oscar purrs.

For the remaining two weeks they spent in Brooklyn, Pedro started a slow, but steady, movement from asking, to telling, Oscar what he wanted. It started small, such as telling Oscar to make him breakfast, gradually progressing to telling Oscar what he wanted him to do to him during their scenes. These things included, but were not limited to, be restrained with soft ribbons and some light choking. By time they were ready to go back to LA the week before Pedro’s 44th birthday, Pedro was telling Oscar to blindfold him and have his way with him. A week after returning to LA Pedro told Oscar he wanted to use toys with him and be in charge of the remote control. Oscar eagerly agreed to all of these things when Pedro commanded them.

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Act V: The Reversal

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A gentle rain begins to fall as Oscar softly sings an acoustic version of ‘(I Can’t Help) Falling In Love With You’. Pedro continues to sip his coffee, running his fingers lazily through Oscar’s hair. When the song is over Oscar continues to strum idly, turning his head slightly to look up at Pedro.

“Happy birthday, mi tigre. What did you want to do today? I know we’re going out Saturday with your family and Sarah, but what about today?”

Pedro considers this for a few moments before a wicked grin curls his lips. “I want you to do a strip tease for me, baby. Then I’m gonna fuck you. And later, you’re gonna make love to me under the stars.”

Oscar rests his guitar carefully against the sofa. Propping himself up on one elbow he reaches for Pedro’s neck with his free hand, pulling him down for a tender kiss.

“Qué rico, mi Pedrito travieso (How delicious, my naughty Pedrito),” Oscar purrs softly, licking Pedro’s bottom lip before resting his head on Pedro’s lap once more.

They continue to sit outside in the gentle rain for another hour, enjoying the quietness of the day. The gentle rain eventually becomes hard and steady, resulting in a significant drop in temperature. When Oscar feels Pedro shudder beneath him, he quickly and carefully packs his guitar away, taking it, along with Pedro’s empty coffee cup, inside. When he comes back out he pulls Pedro to his feet, gripping his hips to pull him close. Burying his face into the crook of Pedro’s neck, he kisses a slow path to Pedro’s ear.

“Are you ready, mi tigre?” he whispers softly before gently biting Pedro’s earlobe.

He feels Pedro shudder against him and that deliciously familiar twitch against his lower abdomen as Pedro’s cock responds to his touch. Oscar kisses Pedro’s jaw line, pulling him tighter against his own growing erection. Standing practically nose to nose Oscar traces Pedro’s lower lip with his thumb before cupping his chin and sinking into a hungry, heated kiss. Moaning against his lips, Oscar grips the front of Pedro’s shirt and guides him inside. The steady drumming of rain through the open door sets a backdrop as he motions Pedro to sit in a chair he has turned to face the balcony.

Pedro grins impishly as Oscar takes out his phone and queues up a song. When the synthesized intro of ‘Pony’ begins Oscar starts to roll his hips in languid circles, raising his arms above his head, crossing them at the wrist. As his hips move his entire body falls into sync. He runs his fingers through his loose curls, down his face, neck and chest. Stepping in front of Pedro’s knees, Oscar grips his legs firmly and spreads them apart. Crouching between them, he runs his fingers up and down the length of Pedro’s thighs before cupping Pedro’s straining bulge through his pants. Leaning in, Oscar kisses Pedro’s neck, nipping the bruises he left the night before. Gliding his fingers over his lovers torso, he takes Pedro’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, panting heavily into Pedro’s mouth, before rising and taking a small step back.

Still feeling the music, Oscar undoes his belt with one hand, removing it in one quick, smooth motion. The leather snaps loudly as it coils upon itself before falling to the floor. Pedro bites his bottom lip and grips the arms of the chair, fingers flexing over the velvety surface. As Oscar untucks his shirt Pedro reaches for the waistband of Oscar’s pants. Oscar slaps his hand away playfully, shaking his head and wagging his finger.

“No, mi Pedrito! This is a tease, remember?’ Oscar laughs.

“I can’t help myself, baby. I want to touch you so badly. My body aches for the feel of your skin against mine.”

A Cheshire Cat grin slowly curves Oscar’s lips as he teasingly lifts his shirt, inch by inch, exposing his stomach, before removing it fully and tossing it onto his discarded belt. Stepping into the space between Pedro’s still spread legs, Oscar takes Pedro’s hands, placing them on his pecks. He guides them down his torso, stopping at the waistline. Hands still covered, Pedro slowly undoes the button and zipper, pulling Oscar’s pants over his hips. They fall to the floor as Pedro grips Oscar’s hips, pulling him close. Oscar steps out of his pants and hastily kicks them to the side as Pedro licks and kisses his stomach, starting to tug at the waistband of Oscar’s boxer briefs.

Stepping back just far enough to be out of Pedro’s reach, Oscar hooks his thumb into his waistband and teasingly pulls his boxers down just enough to expose the base of his cock. His other hand snakes inside, cupping his balls and giving them a light squeeze. His hand glides over his now erect cock as he pulls it out of his boxers. Taking Pedro’s hand, he places it over his throbbing member, pressing it hard against his erection.

“Baby, you make me so fucking hard,” Oscar whispers as he slowly pulls his boxers down, kicking them onto the pile of discarded clothes as Pedro starts to stroke him languidly.

Oscar straddles Pedro in the chair, kissing him with an unspoken, urgent need. He grinds his hips into Pedro as he works to remove Pedro’s shirt, breaking their kiss just long enough to pull it over Pedro’s head. Their lips reconnect instantly as Oscar’s fingers weave into Pedro’s soft, unruly hair, gripping it tightly. Pedro squeezes Oscar’s ass with one hand, while continuing to stroke his hard cock with the other. Oscar swiftly unbuttons and unzips Pedro’s pants, but when he goes to pull them down, he realizes he’ll have to stand up to remove them. Gripping the back of the chair firmly, Oscar pulls himself to a standing position, feet planted on the edges of the chair, allowing Pedro to shimmy off his remaining clothes.

As soon as Pedro’s hands are free again he possessively grips Oscar’s cock and licks the length from base to tip before swirling his tongue around the head and taking him fully. Oscar’s hips roll in small circles, the heat and texture of Pedro’s tongue eliciting deep moans.

“Fuck baby,” Oscar pants. “Oh yeah, just like that. I love it when you do that with that filthy little tongue of yours.” Gripping the back of the chair with one hand, Oscar buries his fingers in Pedro’s hair, gently guiding Pedro’s head. “I see you’re using the technique I taught you. You’ve gotten very good at it, baby,” Oscar moans softly.

Pedro continues to go down on Oscar, hollowing his cheeks to take him deeper. Still gripping the back of the chair for support, Oscar tightly grips Pedro’s throat, feeling his girth fill and expand it beneath his hand. After several minutes Oscar leans back slightly, loosening his grip on Pedro’s throat and looks down at him, cupping his face in his hands.

“Damn baby, you’re fucking incredible. Give me a second to catch my breath, otherwise I’m gonna paint that beautiful throat of yours before you’ve had a chance to play.”

Oscar sits on Pedro’s lap and begins to stroke his cock slowly. Pedro mewls under Oscar’s touch. Grabbing the lube from the small table beside them, Oscar applies liberal amounts to Pedro’s cock as Pedro applies in kind to Oscar’s entrance.

“Baby, can I change my mind?” Oscar asks playfully.

“No,” Pedro responds in a low tone with a devilish grin. “Are you ready for me, gatito?”

Oscar nods, a half smile curling his lips. Resting his hand on Pedro’s side, Oscar caresses Pedro’s cheek.

“Slide down a little bit baby,” he whispers gently into Pedro’s ear.

Gripping Pedro’s shoulders for support he lifts himself up so Pedro can slide down in the seat.

“Slide down a little more baby, and lay back. Yeah, just like that.” Oscar says in a soft, encouraging tone.

A look of nervousness overcomes Pedro as he grips his own cock and prepares to penetrate Oscar for the first time.

“Relax baby, it’s ok. Just take it nice and slow. I’ll help guide you.” Pedro looks at him with concern and uncertainty. “You won’t hurt me, mi tigre, I promise. If something doesn’t feel right let me know and we’ll make adjustments.” Oscar soothes, placing a reassuring hand on Pedro’s chest, right above his rapidly beating heart.

Placing his hand over Pedro’s they move slowly, allowing Pedro time to steady his nerves. Oscar accepts him with little resistance, a shuddering moan escaping him as Pedro goes deeper. They sit in silence for several seconds as Pedro’s breath gradually returns to a calm, steady rhythm.

Resting his hands on Pedro’s shoulders, Oscar leans into him, kissing him softly on the lips. He starts to roll his hips slowly, allowing Pedro to become acclimated before he gradually increases his tempo. Pedro quickly matches Oscar’s pace, lifting his hips to penetrate deeper.

“Fuck, mi tigre, you feel so god damn good inside me. Stroke my cock while you fuck me, baby. I wanna feel you inside and out. I want you to consume me entirely.”

Oscar moans loudly as Pedro fills him and strokes him simultaneously. Oscar’s moans and heavy breathing help Pedro find his groove. He begins to thrust with more force, his hips slapping against Oscar’s ass.

“Daddy, can I—,” Pedro begins, but is immediately cut off by Oscar placing a finger over Pedro’s lips.

“Don’t ask, baby…,” Oscar pants heavily. He gasps when Pedro’s free hand finds his throat a few seconds later. “Harder, baby. Like you fucking mean it!”

Pedro’s grip tightens around Oscar’s throat, causing Oscar’s breath to come in hollow, gasping shudders. Pedro moans loudly, the sounds from Oscar driving his courage. Pedro’s hips keep slamming against Oscar’s ass as he ruts himself harder and deeper into Oscar, hitting his sweet spot over and over.

Breath hitching in his chest, Oscar pants eagerly, “Fuck! Right there, baby, right there!”

Slowing down, Pedro presses his hand firmly against Oscar’s chest, indicating him to lean back slightly. Pedro leans down and kisses the tip of Oscar’s cock, which is already moist with pre-cum, swirling his tongue along the slit. He licks his lips, allowing Oscar’s essence to create a slick sheen on them.

The sight and sensation causes Oscar to jerk forward, involuntarily chasing Pedro’s lips. A feral groan escapes as Pedro finally wraps his lips around Oscar’s hard, aching cock. As his concentration shifts Pedro’s speed falters. Oscar picks up the slack, controlling both the depth and speed of penetration.

“I’m getting close, mi tigre. Where do you want it?” Oscar asks softly.

Pedro stops just long enough to answer, “In my mouth. Let me taste you, gatito.”

Gripping Pedro’s throat tightly Oscar releases his load, feeling his orgasm pour down Pedro’s throat, a quivering sensation rippling below his grip. Pedro gasps as he tries to catch his breath.

As Oscar continues to rock his hips, taking Pedro as deep as he can, his breath comes in ragged gasps as he rides Pedro hard. He leans in closely, hands traveling up Pedro’s sweat slicked torso, and bites Pedro’s shoulder hard enough to elicit a gasp.

Pedro shudders as he tries to hold off his release. Oscar gazes at him intensely, instantly knowing that he’s trained his Pedrito very well. Even taking on a dominant role, Pedro still seeks Oscar’s approval before he can find his release.

In a soft whisper, Oscar breathes against Pedro’s ear, “It’s okay, baby. Cum for me, cum inside me.”

Pedro arches his back as he cums deep inside Oscar, moaning with relief as his orgasm pulses through him in waves. Oscar sighs heavily as Pedro fills him. Cupping his chin, Oscar leans in and kisses Pedro tenderly, running his fingers through Pedro’s damp hair. As if a switch was flipped, Pedro almost immediately falls back into a submissive state.

“Was that ok, Daddy?” Pedro asks quietly, looking down into the space between them shyly.

“You did beautifully, mi tigre,” Oscar purrs, kissing the tip of Pedro’s nose. “I enjoyed it very much. I hope you enjoyed it too?”

“Yes, Daddy, I enjoyed it very much. I would love to do it again. Soon.”

“Of course, mi Pedrito. Sabes que haría cualquier cosa por ti, mi amor (you know I would do anything for you, my love). Let’s take a quick shower, then we can snuggle a little. And you can tell me where you want to go once it’s dark. Is there anywhere you know of that has privacy and good star visibility?”

“Hmm, there’s an observatory at Mt. Wilson. I think that would be perfect. There are some trails nearby. We could take a blanket, maybe some wine?”

“That sounds perfect, darling.”

After they shower they fall asleep while snuggled up to each other in bed, satisfied and pleasantly tired. A few hours later they dress, go to Pedro’s favorite restaurant, then head out to Mt. Wilson, where they gaze at the stars through the observatory telescopes while waiting for the park to officially close. Once they’re sure they’re relatively alone they lay out a blanket and sip wine while gazing at the night sky. They make love under the stars, just like they did during the nights they’d spent in Brooklyn.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

#a series of firsts #asof #latino space sisters #p&o #pedro pascal #space sisters #oscar isaac

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nerdieforpedro · 4 months

Text

Watch me and Touch it Querida

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x plus size female reader

Fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Santiago Garcia Masterlist / Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: You have a crush on your long time friend Santiago. After the events of Columbia, he stays in your spare bedroom. You two make good roommates. Pope decides to ask you a question that you thought was just a throwaway. Turns out he was serious.

Warnings: Teasing, Hair worship (is this a thing? I guess it is now 👀), oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap them thangs up), cockwarming, aftercare, bad jokes throughout (another Nerdie staple)

Notes: My first Santiago smut! I think I captured his essence. Maybe, Ya'll will have to let me know. Also, I apologize to anyone who actually plays guitar, I just looked up what Google said were the four basic chords.

The first clue should have been that he asked to stay with you. He had three other men, his brothers, that he could have stayed with. Especially since they don't talk about whatever happened last month. Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia is a flirt of a man, has been since you’ve known him. You pay him no mind, his little compliments don’t phase you - much. He would call and text you in between deployments and later when he was out of the military. He’d also call when he was in the States or overseas consulting. Just checking in on you, he would normally lead with asking about how you were doing. Your mind constantly told you it’s the kind of thing he would do with the guys except they likely have private jokes. Your heart tells you it might be more, but your mind usually wins with reasoning.

Him moving in went fine. Pope didn’t have much with him. A few duffle bags and a backpack. He took up your second bedroom and things were easy. Just fine. They guys joked that you two should have been roommates years ago since you got along so well. They’re not wrong, you just still need him to move out. Which is impossible to ask considering one of his friends just died on their trip, none of them will say how and even though they all still get along, neither Frankie, Will or Benny will let Pope stay with them. Suspicion is high that there’s some lingering resentment there, but it’s not your place to ask. You weren’t there. You don’t know and you’re not going to.

You haven’t seen any odd habits so far. He cleans up after himself, cooks every once in a while. No women have been in your guest room that you know of and you never want to know if they have. The conversations flow easily and he plays his guitar sometimes, letting you sit on his bed next to him while he plays different chords. Strong hands alternate between picking at the strings and strumming them, Santi softly hums a tune you’re not familiar with. There was a Die Hard marathon you both watched together the other day. No red flags….which should have been red flag two for you.

He’s your friend. Almost a brother to you. You can’t be looking at how his polo shirts cinch around his waist and slight tummy or how they’re struggling with every thread on those biceps of his. The man has a million watt smile with curls to match, a dangerous five o’clock shadow, plush lips and warm chocolate eyes that focus on you when you speak. When he calls your name, you always exhale, it sounds perfect out of his mouth. Your thoughts haven’t even broached his thighs or that perfect curve he calls an ass when he asks you out of the blue. You’re minding your own business on the couch reading a book. Lying to yourself that you’re going to do less screen time this year.

“You think I should grow it out? I’ve always shaved it.” How long had he been thinking about this? Wait…shave what? Not his head right?! Not those curls. Curls that you’d snuck your hands in only a handful of times copying a noogie that Benny would do and only when the others were around. So silky with a touch of gray….He had asked a question. About his hair, shaving it…

“Santiago. Please don’t shave your head.” You pleaded, harder than you meant it to come out, but you were serious. It warranted your book closing and to look up at him. Why did he have to stand in front of you like that? Sure most people do that, but it’s not okay when he does it. You’re aware of this and the fact that you still haven’t told this man to move in with one of his brothers means you’re the third red flag. At some point, you became okay with the idea of throwing away your friendship with Santiago. Oolging him when he’s not aware and looking forward when he’s away for a few days so you can think more about his merits and assets. Possibly with a few handheld aides.

He laughed at you and sat down on the couch. “No tonta (silly). Grow a beard. My facial hair grows pretty fast anyway. What do you think? You like facial hair on your men angel?” His shoulder nudged your arm. You chuckled at the thought that he joked about you having men. Pfft. Shaking your head, you playfully swatted his cheek, his rough stubble grazing your fingers. You made sure your hand came down to your knee, the desire to keep in on his face was too strong in the moment.

“I think you could pull off a beard. You already have stubble half the time. Just don’t let it look raggedy Santi.” You smiled, trying to picture it. The most facial hair you’d seen him with was a mustache in pictures before Delta Force and he looked like a porn star. Hell he looked like one now. You need to stay focused, you’re having a conversation. If he did have one of those nice, maintained beards though…he might turn into an evil villain. They usually had some cool beards before getting thwarted by heroes. His grin at your very apparent compliment and distraction makes you lose the little focus you did have.

“Glad you believe in me. You didn’t answer my other question though.” Squinting your eyes, you’re confused for maybe the third time tonight. “Do you like facial hair on men or do you like them clean shaven?” He leaned in, very clearly expecting an answer.

Frazzled, your answer matched your current state of mind, “I mean, more hair is always better than less hair. I love some friction, you know I’m used to it because of my thighs but that’s…it’s gotta be a different kinda of sensation when someone's doing it right and has a solid beard…” His wide eyes told you that you’d said too much. Way too much. You stood up and mumbled goodnight, cursing yourself and hoping that maybe he had another overseas contract soon. He grabbed your wrist and stood with you.

“Is that what you like angel? Something for a different type of friction? Good to know. I take it you haven’t had that from what you said though. Sweet dreams cariño (dear).” Santiago said as he released your wrist. He knew damn well you weren’t going to sleep tonight and you didn’t. The next few days, he didn’t mention it and when you two met up with the guys and their girlfriends, he didn’t mention anything then either. By next week, you were sure it had blown over and he left saying he was going to be gone for two months. That was plenty of time to forget your mistake right?

The time came and went fast. Santiago was back…with a damn beard. It was black with gray strands at its edges. Letting his lips peek out from the oval of hair that formed around them. You looked, then turned and snuck another look. Angry that you did. Maybe he would shave once he got settled in. He greeted you with a hug, nuzzling his nose and jaw on your neck as he embraced you. You wanted to slap him for testing you, but maybe he didn’t remember, you also wanted to touch his face and kiss him to feel the hair on your face. Gazing up at him, his curls had grown out a bit more as well, more pronounced and larger. Pope said he was going to go take a shower and frankly, you felt you could use one too. Get these ideas out of your head.

The first week is fine. A good amount of time spent with the guys both at bars, their places and in your apartment. The second week however was the kicker - Santiago had gotten some beard oil that smelled of cedar, jasmine and a hint of vanilla. You were thankful that Will wanted Santi to tag along with him this week for more motivational speaking engagements. Pope was out of the house and away from you smelling that damn delicious.

As it was past 9pm on a Thursday, you were already in your oversized sleep shirt and panties. Not sexy at all. Not that you needed to be, you’re dancing around in your apartment. It’s something you haven’t done too much except when Santi’s out of town. It helped calm you and you could focus on the music and not your various worries, especially your thoughts about your roommate.

Santiago unlocked the door to your apartment. He walked in and saw you in the living room. Swinging your hips, arms above your head. What should come on next but “Worth the Wait” by Kali Uchis & Omar Apollo. You’re singing along and moving with the music, it wouldn’t hurt to dance with you right? It’s not like he hasn’t danced with you around your home before, though that was usually to some boy bands that you would play because you knew he hated them. He took hold of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours, his gaze on your surprised face as you stopped moving, but he brought one of your hands down and patted your hip to encourage you to continue to dance. The song is slow and the content is rather sensual. “Keep dancing cariño. With me.” Is the only thing he said as you two moved, your chests mere inches away from each other. He released your hands and placed them on your hips and yours immediately went to his beard. You figured if he’s going to dance with you like this, you may as well touch it. He let out a deep chuckle, leaning forward. Santi pressed his warm chest against yours, he spoke in your ear, “You like it, touch is querida (sweetheart)? I grew it just for you.”

Your breath hitched when he said your name in your ear and his hands that had been on your hips, roamed your back. “Y-You did Santi? You didn’t have to…I..” His large hand ran up your neck and cupped the back of your head as he sang along to Kali’s next song “All Mine.” Your hands fell to his sides, pressing into his skin, kneading it. It would be embarrassing how moist your panties had become and that your nipples were hard as little pebbles if you didn’t feel the need to jump this man, but dancing is sweet and nice.

We’ll figure it out as we go, just you and me

But we won’t leave each other alone, that’s all mine

All me, all me All mine, All mine, all mio, mio, mi

All mine, all mine, all mio, mio, mi

Both of you continued to rock side to side until the song ended and Santiago stood to his full height. You wondered if maybe you’d gotten too lost in the music and had imagined everything. You hadn’t let go of him yet, if you weren’t hallucinating then that meant this just happened and maybe you could act on what you’d been feeling. “Santiago. What you just sung, did you mean it?” Your eyes scanned his face, you wouldn’t be distracted this time. He had essentially used a song to confess his feelings to you, but it needed to be said outside of a song. Pope took hold of your chin and smiled.

“Yes I meant it. I know how you’ve been undressing me the entire time I’ve been here angel. I’m not an idiot. At least in that department. I’ll say I’m not great at long term relationships so we’ll take it how it goes, sí (yes)?” He offered. That was all you needed to cup his face, place your fingers in his beard and pull him in for a frantic kiss. He appeared surprised which made you grin as he parted his lips for you, quickly recovering and wrapping his arms around you pulling you toward him as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth. The groan you released was loud as you pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness spread. You pulled out of the kiss and pulled him toward your bedroom. “Cariño, you sure?” He asked with slightly red lips. You answered by pushing him onto the bed, hands on your hips, you scanned his body. He didn’t need to ask and you weren’t going to answer such a silly question. You smacked your lips at the tent in those damn cargo pants he always wore.

“Too many clothes Garcia. Take them off.” Your hands went to your hips. “Now.” Santiago hadn’t seen this side of you and was enjoying it. He was normally one to take charge in the bedroom. He removed his shirt, exposing his taut muscles that flexed as he fiddled with his belt and removed his boxers and pants in one drop. He kicked off his socks as he sat on the side of bed with his arms out. You stepped up to him but didn’t embrace him. Instead, you just dropped your soaked panties as they hit the floor, heavy with your own wetness. Santi looked down and muttered a soft, “fuck,” next you removed your shirt. Your curves on full display as he attempted to place his hands on your hips but you stopped him. “Up on the bed. I’m due some friction since you keep teasing it with me.”

“¡Joder! (Fuck) , this is what you like huh? Being in charge? I’ll play along this time.” He slid back toward the top of the bed where you were expecting him in the middle.

“That’s where I’m supposed to be Santi. Move back down.” You motioned as the bed dipped, you crawled next to him and looked down at him. He smirked, damn grin. You wanted to pink he cheek, both sets.

“No. If you’re going to take charge then you need the right seat angel.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you scratched your chin for a moment. It clicked, he wanted you to…no one’s ever asked that. Pope didn’t give you a choice about settling on his face gently. He turned on his side to grab your knees and pulled you over his shoulders, his breath on your slick inner thighs. “Look at you. You’ll drench me won’t you angel?” He turned his head to the side and rubbed his beard on your thigh, you brought your legs closer together and reached down, taking a handful of his curls while calling his name.

“Dammit, you know how many nights I’ve thought about this, your curls and this beard? Don’t ever mention cutting your hair again unless I say so.” You growled, his nose tipped upward touching your clit momentarily before he drew back. “Fuck..you damn tease Santiago…” His hands roamed from your knees to your thighs and then your large ass, giving it a squeeze. It made you buck your hips and drop them, making your slick lips come into contact with his beard. Your yelp was sharp and followed by multiple curses as you heard Garcia laugh into your core. It didn’t matter now if he laughed, you were here, sitting on this man’s face. You dropped your hips to stifle him, calling his name as you sat. The sweet grate of his beard against your thighs and mound had you dripping.

Santiago had never seen you so feral. He was throbbing as he watched you cry out his name and felt his cock twitch when you pulled on his hair. He knew he had an effect on you but didn’t expect this. This was so much better than he could have imagined. Now that he could barely breathe, he opened his mouth, kissing your entrance before rolling his tongue around your tight hole. He estimated that he’d definitely need you come at least twice to accommodate him. He then had it pass your entrance to explore within you and he felt your strong pulses. He smirked again, hearing you scream as he went deeper before truly starting. He alternated hollowing out his cheeks to suck what felt like your uterus out of you and having his tongue press against your soft core. He was concerned for a moment that you may pull out a chunk of his hair, the way you were using his head to steady yourself as you grinded into his face. When he was pulling his tongue back to suck again, you screamed his name again and gushed, soaking his face, beard and neck. He drank as if he'd come in from a desert and you were the first source of water he’d come across. When your body relaxed, you fell forward and he slid from under you to lay next to you. Your face was sweaty and some of your hair was sticking to your forehead, one of your hands weakly came up to your face in an attempt to hide it but he grabbed it and kissed it gently.

“You asked me to strip so no hiding hermosa (gorgeous). You had your beloved friction?” He teased and you smiled, shaking your head. He didn’t forget that you said that. He remembers all the wrong things. He set your hand down on the bed and rubbed your back, “Ready for more? I’m going to need at least two more from you.” He explained and your eyes went wide.

“I might have one…and that’s being generous of me. Why two?” You managed to prop yourself on your elbows but were still on your stomach. His hand continued to rub your back and slowly went to your ass, then a finger slipped into your sensitive sex, making you gasp. “Y-You need to warn someone when you do that…”

“That’s why, you’re a little too tight.” He kissed your shoulder and licked your ear, “those boys you’ve dealt with and your toys don’t prepare you for me querida.” His finger pumped slowly and as it reached deeper he added a second one, making you lift your right knee to allow yourself to open more. The squelching noises coming from your cunt had you whine as you gaze up at Santiago who was watching you, his gaze heavy. “I wonder which chord your pussy plays to angel?” He licked his lips and nibbled on your ear again before speaking again, “Em?” His fingers pumped into your straight, “how about C?” He curved his fingers slightly and your hips snapped, you opened your legs even wider as you began to wiggle against the mattress.

Santiago stopped his fingers for a moment and flipped you on your back before adding a third finger and curling his fingers even more, “How about G?” His eyes were dancing, watching you pant from just his hand. You’re saying his name, but babbling angrily at him. He finds it adorable that you still have it in you to be angry. You could hold a grudge. He’ll fuck it right out of you. His free hand roams your wide stomach as you pull on the sheets around you and your legs continue to part for him, feet planted into the mattress as you move your hips with his fingers. He leans over you and kisses you gently to which you release the sheets and grab his head, digging into his curls again, biting his bottom lip. He draws back deciding to finish you. He wants to watch you as you climax this time, “let me give you chord D cariño.” Santiago crosses two of his fingers over each other, bends them slightly, hitting your spongy sensitive tissue. Your hands let go of his hair and grasp his forearms, digging your nails into them and you groan with your second climax, it feels stronger than the first as your back arches. He revels in watching your mouth wide open spilling with his name repeatedly, even the pain from your nails is welcome. He’s not normally into it being a bit rough, but he senses that you might not be aware of what you’re doing. He wouldn’t mention it now. Something else to tease you with later.

Slowly you feel his fingers leave your drenched cunt, you feel like you’re floating but exhausted. Your eyes flutter, but you watch as he licks his fingers, hearing him moan as he does. It had your core stirring again. Having him take you apart, break you even though you planned to be much more assertive, initially you weren’t happy about it, but he’d done nothing except pleasure you since you’d ask him to strip. “S-Santi, do you want me to…” Your eyes trailed down to his swollen and dripping cock which looked thicker than any you’d had, even your dildos. You were understanding more why he made sure to prepare you first.

“Not tonight. I bet you’re still pissed at me for teasing you. I know you hold onto a grudge like a dog with a bone, angel. You'll be a little less mad after I finish with you.” He rubbed his beard against your soft stomach before settling between your legs, “Ah! Damn it, I need a condom. I’ll have to go to my room, I have some-” His face went from smoldering to panicked, then to confusion as you reached down and gently gripped the head of his dick.

“I have an IUD Santiago. I’m not mad but, you’re not taking your cock out of me until it’s soft. I will be livid if you do.” His eyes were wide as your knees parted further and you brought his head to your entrance. He placed his hand over yours and moved it gingerly. You watched as he looked up at you.

“I didn’t realize you were such a dangerous woman. As my angel wants.” Santiago slid into your wet cunt halfway, watching you to see if you had any discomfort. It was slight, only from the stretch, he was so girthy. You growled at him.

“You’re not all the way in are you? I’m fine. Just move, Please Santi…” That famous grin spread over his face as he pushed forward until his hips were flush with yours. “Yes…that’s it…fuck it’s so much. This was in those damn pants? It isn’t enough that you have that ass?” You managed a small giggle, reaching your hands to cup his face. “Fuck me while you kiss me with this beard you sexy bastard.”

“You’re so damn kinky cariño. I love it and you, too.” His lips crashed into yours as he started his pace, not bothering with slow as he drew back and gave deep thrusts that kept hitting your cervix. Moans between the two of you had your lips swollen as you kept needing to either bite, suck or release cries. His hands moved from your stomach to your knees, bending your legs back and tipping your hips upward slightly, hitting an entirely different angle. Santiago was up on his knees and had moved out of your reach so you placed your hands over his that were on the back of your knees. Between him rutting into you and the bending you were doing to try and touch any part of him, your insides were quivering again. You were close again already.

“S-Santi..It’s…” You stuttered, in between your whines. He nodded as he felt you starting to clamp around him, he felt his balls tightening. Dropping one of your knees, he wrapped an arm around your back to bring you close to him, one hand went to his soft curls, now drenched with sweat and the other held the back of his neck as your thumb ran across his temple and grazed his beard. With a few more pumps, Santiago spilled into you, groaning into a rough kiss with you, his teeth nearly colliding with yours if you hadn’t had your tongue run along them. The sensation of him filling your core, had your third orgasm begin. Pope slowly dragged his softening cock along your walls to extend it, he kissed trailed down your neck. When both of your bodies stopped moving, Santi gave it a minute and went to pull out to which you wrapped your legs around him.

“Not yet. Just inside, a little longer Santi.” You cooed, kissing his shoulder. He nodded and held you, as the both of you soaked in each other’s warmth. When you removed your arms from him, he took that to mean that he could move which he did. He went to your bathroom as you tried to sit up. He looked back to you and quickly motioned for you to stay on the bed. He returned with a warm washcloth after whipping himself off and opened your legs. The cool air had you let out a quiet sigh.

“Careful, you keep sounding like that, I may have you ride my face again angel.” You laughed knowing you didn’t have the strength to do so no matter how tempting it sounded. He carefully wiped, making you flinch as your cunt was swollen and sensitive. Once he finished, he helped you sit up and helped you to the bathroom. After the clean up was done, you both returned to bed, getting under the sheets, you laid next to Santi and twirled a finger in his curls. “Ven aquí (come here) cariño. You enjoy yourself?” He pulled your upper body onto his chest, preferring to be face to face with you.

“I did. I’m going to be sore for a few days, but it’s worth it.” A soft smile graces your face as does Santi’s. You peck his lips and lay your head on his chest. His laugh vibrates throughout his chest. His hands are once again on your back, stroking it. It’s relaxing.

“Good to know I’m worth it angel. I was starting to think all your staring had you rethinking my beard.” You poked out your bottom lip and pinched his bicep. His hands grabbed your hips and jiggled the extra flesh you had on them.

“You could have just asked you damn tease.”

“Nah. I had to make you work for it a bit. I’m not an easy man cariño.” He kissed your forehead as his hands traveled back up to your back.

“You’re near impossible is what you are, Santiago. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, that I do know querida. I love you too.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you in each other’s arms, fully exposed to each other finally.

Music from the fic:

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