#snoring tool

[crunchywho-comix]

What is my problem? Weight? Age? Species? This is stupid.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Omf how about a fix where asthmas antlers fall off and reader collects it and puts it on the cat version of him for shits and giggles

An Angry Deer and New Horns

Cursed Cat Alastor 

FT. Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Alastor being angry, Antlers shedding.

Alastor growled and groaned as you helped get the velvet off of his old horns, jacket thrown on his armchair and his shirt unbuttoned as sweat had stuck to his skin. Placing the tools down on your lap, you grabbed the rag from the small bowl of cold water that was seated next to Alastor on the ground. Ringing the extra water out of the rag before carefully wiping his head and neck. Before small tip taps made its presence known causing Alastor to growl, “..how did the cat get in here?” He whispered out leaning his head back into you. You hummed feeling as the cat climbed up on the chair staring at you before Alastor letting out an audible laugh from a laugh track. One that seemed like it had come from his cane, Alastor snarled, going to stand up shakily, a loud static echoing around the room.

You carefully grabbed his hands guiding him to sit back down, “Relax Al, he just wants to get under your skin.” You whispered, allowing him to get comfortable once more before you leaned down and kissed his head. He let out a grunt, as you grabbed the tools once more. “Just pay attention to me, Dear.” He closed his eyes, holding onto your leg once more. The laughter became louder before stopping as a soft hiss was heard, a small paw tapping your shoulder. You glanced towards the cat who tapped your shoulder more letting a louder hiss, “Hold on..let me help Alastor with his horns” Finishing with his velvet you carefully grabbed the rag to wash away the blood that had dripped down his face. Alastor grunted out as he snapped his fingers, taking his shirt off completely as he leaned into your hands. “Just relax okay? It’s over.” You whispered out before focusing on the cat who had now made its way to lay half its body on your shoulder.

Your hand reached up to carefully pet its head as a static like purr had escaped its throat. As your other hand had scratched between his horns carefully, as his breathing had slowly evened out, his head lulling to the side as he slowly fell asleep against you. You sit back on the chair letting out a yawn but stay awake to keep an eye over Alastor to make sure nothing happens especially when he is in a vulnerable state. You turn your attention back to the cursed cat in your lap who was once again laying down loaf style.

As your hand scratched at Alastor’s head your fingers knocked up against one of his antlers, causing him to jump in his sleep and huffed before the antler had fallen off onto your lap which had landed on the poor cat. A soft hiss escaped the cat before it focused on the door staring off into space, you snickered and picked up the fallen antler before slowly putting it against the cat’s head, “Double the antlers~” you whispered out, causing the cat to look up at you. Giving you a look of ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ and a mixture of amusement.

You looked away for one moment and in that one movement you felt the antlers get ripped out of your hand, the little pitter patter of tiny paws running towards the closed and locked door. You cursed and hissed knowing if you moved to get up Alastor would wake up in a grumpy mood. Alastor’s shadow moved towards the door quickly stopping the cat in its tracks of trying to escape, moving it back towards the chair you were sitting on. You reached down and scooped the cat up, making it drop the antlers in return and holding it up into the air. “You’re in air jail now.” you whispered, causing it to growl and hiss out, swiping it’s paws at you in protest.

~~ 

It was a couple hours later when Alastor had woken up, shaking his head and grumbling at how his head started to feel more light- he reached up and noticed that he didn’t have horns. His eyes glanced over how you were slouched down in the armchair softly snoring away, he slowly got up to pick you up and move you into the bed that sat in your room. He stopped seeing how the cat was shaking and hissing in anger, static sounding from it. 

His smile grew thin as he let out an evil chuckle, seeing as his now fallen off horns were taped to this cat’s head. His neck snapped to the side as loud static echoed through the room. “...now what do we have here?” He growled out moving closer to the cat that stepped further into the corner drool dripping from its grin, “A thief are we? First you steal my darling doe’s affection and now you steal my antlers?"

He growled and looked back down at you before chuckling deeply, “I guess this is a punishment for being a thief,” He said picking you up and holding your sleeping body close as he moved you from the armchair to your bed easily. He snapped his fingers, his shirt back on his torso as he fixed the buttons on it, his gaze returning to the cat standing shaking in anger. He shook his head, his ears flickering as he moved towards the armchair he had silently claimed as his own. 

He grabbed his book and crossed his legs as he began reading, unaffected by the fact the cat was glaring at him from across the room.

[feyascorner]

Astarion is such a girl dad nobody can tell me otherwise.

Would he be a responsible parent? Maybe. It depends on which act we’re looking at. He’d give her a doll and then a pretty knife for her birthday. But gods if he doesn’t absolutely wreak havoc with a little version of himself…

You would walk in on him having a tea party with his daughter, makeup messily smeared on his face and parts of his hair tied with pink rubber bands. He looks ridiculous crouched on a tiny chair, but he takes this tea party very seriously. Your daughter does too, it seems, as they chat about some imaginary society of stuffed animals and gossip about which stuffy was rude to another.

He’d also let her play dentist on his fangs, lying on the sofa while feigning a toothache so his daughter can “treat” him with random tools around the house. If you weren’t terrified she might accidentally cut herself on how sharp his teeth are, you’d think it’s adorable.

And when I say this man dresses her, I am not over exaggerating. He teaches her early on how to do basic sewing and adjustments to her clothes, but he’s also loves to buy her little frilly bows and such that he knows she’ll like. Dresses, scarves, gloves, you name it. He loves putting on a show, so why should his own daughter walk around in dreadfully boring clothing?

On one of the occasions you join in on their tea parties, he steps out of the room for a few minutes to grab something. When he returns, your daughter is fast sleep in your lap, and you smile down softly at her. The sight makes his chest swell.

“I think she has your nose, darling,” he says as he sits down beside you.

“Has your sass, though. I caught her staring at herself in the mirror the other day too.”

He snorts and you finally lift your head to look at him. His eyes flit back and forth between you and your daughter, his features gentle. “Do you blame her? Who wouldn’t want to take after all this?”

You stifle a laugh, careful to keep from waking her. Brushing the hair out of your face, he plants his lips to your forehead while soft snores come from down at your lap.

“I fear I’ll mess up with her,” he whispers against your cheek.

You shake your head, leaning it against his shoulder. “You won’t.”

Somehow, he feels himself trusting your words. He’s always found it easy to do so when it came to you.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Hello! curious question, do you plan on continuing the "wet dream in your lap" series? because I'd love to see something with sub Dottore, although, I'll take anything, so ^_^

Wet Dream In Your Lap pt. 3 - Genshin Impact

Pairings: Dottore, Childe x reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom characters, somnophilia, clothed humping/grinding, choking (Childe), handjobs, characters are called by their real names (Zandik, Ajax)

Genre/Format: Smut; Scenarios

Author's Note: I did plan on continuing this a while ago, I couldn't think of which characters to include next though... Hope you enjoy this, anon!

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Oftentimes you serve as a personal assistant to the second harbinger, handing him whichever tools that he calls out, cleaning up said tools and wiping down the laboratory tables, taking notes during his countless experiments. Whatever he needed, you would be there to lend a hand or two

But you were also his partner and oftentimes you had to remind Dottore that he needed to rest. How is he ever going to take accurate notes from his projects if he's delirious?

Despite your partner's many begrudging protests, the soft snoring that emanated from his position in your lap proved that this sleep was much needed. Pointy teeth peeked through Dottore's lips while his head rested on your shoulder, facing towards you with his arms snaked around your neck. Your own arms were wrapped around the doctor's waist comfortably, holding him close while he slept

Half an hour passed by before Dottore's snoring gradually faded into another sound. You had begun to drift off as well when the noise pulled you back to the waking world. It was hard to tell what exactly this new noise was, but eventually it became clear. It was a whine. Your partner was whining— and beginning to grind against you in your lap

The doctor's hips rolled against yours as a lewd — and rather loud — moan escaped from his lips, leaving you to blush and squirm underneath him, well aware that if this continued on you would get hard and slowly give in to your desires...

“Ah...y/n...y-yes, harder...” Dottore mumbled against your neck, calling out for you in his dreams, no doubt. Does this mean that his dream involved...you? Specifically, did it involve you fucking him? Your answers soon became clear when the doctor's hands unconsciously tangled in the hair near the nape of your neck, thrusting his hips more vigorously than before as he chased some feeling that the 'you' in his dreams caused

It was impossible to ignore the aching, wet feeling in between your legs now. With every sharp thrust against your lap, your dick grew harder and leaked more precum into your underwear. And clearly, your partner had the same issue; tilting your head down a bit, you noticed the growing wet spot on his pants as well. Dottore's own cock had been leaking the whole time, spilling into his underwear as they became stained with his sleepy lust

Carefully, you slid one arm in between your bodies and undid his belt buckle, slipping your hand down the front of his pants and stroking over the wet fabric. The action elicited a gutteral moan from Dottore, who began bucking his hips immediately. His sleepy mind could barely process the new sense of pleasure being administered to his stiff cock, humping your hand like a desperate puppy as you teased him

Letting one of your own needy moans slip out, you maneuvered your hand again and pushed it fully into Dottore's underwear, grabbing his drooling dick and stroking the shaft. “Yes...yes...gods yes...mmm y/n...” Came the doctor's wanton cries as you jerked him off languidly, hissing once your thumb found his slit and teased at the hole. His hips greedily chased your hand, fucking into your tight fist as more whorish sounds were breathed against your neck

“Mmm...good boy, Zandik. Such a cute whore even in your sleep.” You said, clutching the back of his shirt with your other hand. Groaning at how good his dick felt in your hand; slick and veiny and incredibly sensitive underneath your touch

Dottore's hips stuttered before stiffening while his cum painted the front of your shirt, squirting on his shirt a bit too. He always came so much, a little quirk that you found attractive and often used to tease him whenever you milked load after load out of him

After your partner settled down a little you began to squirm again. Even though he came minutes ago, he hasn't stopped humping you yet. Dottore's dick was semi-hard within your hand and making the hottest noises as he continued to fuck up into your cum-coated fist...but you hadn't cum once and it was starting to hurt...your baby's hot breath fanned against your neck with every moan and cry of your name and it was driving you fucking crazy

Surely the doctor wouldn't mind if you let go of his cock long enough to slip yours inside? He would probably love it if you used his sticky cum as lube to finger his hole before you pushed your own thick shaft inside and bounced him on your cock...

It was no secret that the eleventh harbinger, Tartaglia, had boundless stamina. It's one of the reasons why most fatuus would sweat and stammer an excuse whenever the young man asked for a sparring match. That and his terrifying strength, that is...

You were one of the few people that could keep up with that stamina, somewhat... Today just so happened to be one of those days where your match lasted long enough to wear Childe out to the point of exhaustion. Swiftly falling asleep in your lap after you suggested a rest. His eyes fluttering shut as his head laid back onto your shoulder

The comfortable silence that fell over the secluded area that you had fought in was nice after such a fierce fight. Childe's steady breathing nearly lulled you into a lovely nap as well— until a breathy moan came out of him, anyways

Quirking a brow at the unexpected noise, you stared at Childe's face as it scrunched up, opening his mouth to moan again but this time bucking his hips into the air. It was obvious what was happening; your partner was having a wet dream. Calling out your name as his hands unconsciously searched for yours, grasping at them until you helped lace your fingers together. Childe turned his head to the side, now breathing against your neck and arching his back. “Unf...y/n pleeeassee...more, harder...aah– ”

The harbinger's slutty moans caused your dick to twitch, stiffening under him as his hips wiggled and humped the air with more frequency. His hands squeezed yours tighter as he bit back a groan, thrusting upwards one more time and then stilling. A dark wet spot made itself visible in the middle of his pants; he had cum. Your partner just creamed his pants in your lap

You were forced to bite back some sound of your own at the realization, involuntarily thrusting your own hips as you searched for any friction. Childe's lewd scene had you too worked up to ignore it, so you decided to fix the problem that he has created

Trying to go slow and not wake him up, you discarded your partner's pants and boots, leaving him naked from the waist down. You freed your cock from its constraints, growling as the wet head rubbed against your underwear on the way out. The way your member nestled in between Childe's soft cheeks sent a shudder through your body— swallowing dryly, you rubbed against his hole for a minute, teasing both of you before you pushed inside

It was tight... deliciously so. The head of your dick barely fit inside, but you pushed in harder until it popped in. The stretch was what woke the harbinger up, gasping as his eyes snapped open. The burn was immediately noticeable before Childe even figured out what was happening or remembered where he was. “Ah-aah! Ouch...what is– Hey...c-comrade?” He whined, gazing up at you with those beautiful, confused eyes

“Shh, you already came...now it's my turn–” You groaned as your cock pushed farther inside, dragging along your partner's impossibly tight walls. You snaked one hand up and wrapped it around his throat, squeezing tightly and said, “You were...fuck...were grinding on me...felt really good, hah- Mmm take that fucking cock, Ajax—!! ”

He had no choice (not that he would've chosen anything other than this) except taking your fat cock as you thrust up into him, bouncing him in your lap while your heavy panting filled his ears. Childe's hands are laid over yours, digging in harshly as he accepts his situation. Whimpering like a slut while you abuse his hole repeatedly. Not that the harbinger wasn't enjoying this, of course. The dumb smile on his face was proof that he was grateful for this outcome

Tartaglia's naughty dream earned him the kind of fast-paced, desperate fucking that he always begs for. In return, his hole clenched around your dick and he let every last moan and cry fall out of his whore mouth

“Yes, yes, yes...fu-uuuck!! Yesyesyesyesyes—!! ” Childe blurted out, moving his hands down to grab your thighs, using them as leverage to bounce himself and take more of your cock. You responded by choking him even harder, growling right into his ear while your dick pressed on his prostate, which caused your partner's eyes to cross

“Gonna cum, baby? Go on, cum for me. Slut. ” You teased, squeezing the base of Childe's dick before jerking him off. The way his voice goes up an octave and his moans become broken and pathetic signals his incoming release, begging as if his life was on the line while your cock drills his pretty ass

���Pleasepleasepleasepleaseyeahyeahyeahyeaaaaaahhhh—!! Fuuuuck yeeeaaahh—!! ” The harbinger cried, sinking down on your dick as it filled him completely, his own cock spraying another round of cum onto the ground as you milked him fucking dry

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 !

┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ 1K CELEBRATION ☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

CHOSEN DRABBLE: "He wakes up to the sight of you by his side, your gentle fingers inspecting the dressings on his wounds."

REQUESTED BY @sowlcat <3

W/C: 1.9K

Sighing softly, Simon entered his home that he shares with you. He sluggishly took off his muddied boots outside the door, knowing how you would scold him in the morning for putting them inside. Recalling your cute frustrated face looking at him as you cutely stomp on the ground to prove your point made him chuckle.

God, was he such a soft for you.

Fatigue washed over Simon as he stood at the door to his home. His eyes were filled with exhaustion after driving hours to see you. Suddenly, he caught himself on the wall with his hand plastered on it as if in a daze. He heaved a breath, slowly craning his neck up. He spotted the bloodied knuckles and scuffs that had marked his skin. His eyes filled with regret as he realized he would be left with scars. Nevertheless, he could not help but find comfort in the thought of coming home to you.

Closing his eyes as he felt deeply exhausted, Simon thought of you and how you would never hesitate to stay up for him. You would be there by his side to patch him up in the bathroom with a thoughtful look on your face. He didn't want to disturb you, realizing that you were still curled up in your sleep. He tiptoed his steps, careful not to make a sound as he walked toward the bedroom. You meant the world to him and the thought of waking you from your blissful slumber would never cross his mind.

"Maybe I should patch myself up first, Simon whispered to himself as he slowly eased open the door. He peeked inside, expecting to see you safely tucked away in his bed, all cozy and warm. But when the door was finally opened, he was greeted with a scene unlike any other. His heart seemed to melt as he laid his eyes on you, sleeping peacefully in his bed. All trace of exhaustion was lost as a soft grin formed on his face.

Completely sound asleep in his bed was undeniably you. Your legs spread out comfortably with a large pillow between, your arms cradling another pillow, and though he couldn't get to see a glimpse of your face, he can tell you were probably snoring the night away.

Gently shooking his head in amusement, Simon walked over to you and crouched in your side of the bed. Though he has dried blood on his hands, it didn't stop him from pushing your stray hair away from your face, careful as he does not want any of the dirt in your skin.

Leaning in to you, he softly kissed your forehead and for a moment, he closed his eyes in contentment, missing your presence from all the days he was away from you. Now he was here with you. "Love you," He whispered against your hair. "S'damn much."

Simon placed a peck on your cheek so softly like a feather's touch. He just wanted nothing else but to bury himself into the softness of the blankets and sleep in your arms. Grunting, he decided he had to freshen up first before he can join you on the bed that was looking comfy as ever.

Though, begrudgingly he stood up from his crouched position and sauntered over to the bathroom. Finally entering the shower after removing his clothes, he visibly relaxed when the lukewarm water hit his tensed muscles. It felt so good that he stood under the shower head for awhile, letting the warm water massage his sore body.

After showering, he wrapped a towel around his body and let the warm steam from the bathroom envelop him. Now feeling quite better, he approached the vanity box and grabbed the tools he needed to patch himself. Bandages, gauzes, scissors, and some antiseptic liquid were all laid out infront of him.

Simon sat at the bathroom counter and carefully tended to the various wounds he had on his body, bandaging and covering them as needed. He worked with care, ensuring that each wound was properly cleaned, dressed, and protected. Despite the pain and discomfort he felt, Simon remained focused and determined, refusing to let his injuries hold him back.

After applying the last bandage, Simon made his way to the bedroom, careful not to disturb his wounds any further. He climbed into bed beside you, settling in for a long overdue night of rest. He gently wrapped his arms around you as he spoons you from behind.

With your comforting presence at his side, Simon finally allowed himself to let go of the tension and stress that had been weighing on him for so long. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, feeling a sense of peace and comfort in your arms.

—

Simon stirred awake from the soft voice calling out his name, the soft caress of the you fingertips waking him from his slumber. He have yet to open his eyes but still, he can fell himself lying in your arms.

You didn't say anything, your eyes were filled with a hint of sadness and concern as you continued lightly caressing the bandages and gauzes on your lover's body. You woke up quite early as you expected, but it was because of the heavy yet familiar feeling of an arm enclosing your waist.

You had excitedly opened your eyes and turned to your other side to face your now sleeping Simon. You carressed his cheeks as you feel yourself getting emotional. Simon is home. You softly left pecks of your kisses in his chest, each of them filled with love and appreciation.

He could feel how much love that were pouring out of you all over again, it made his heart burst out from so much affection that he thinks were undeserving to him. He felt his arm getting slowly grabbed at and a low coo of concern coming out of you.

Simon was confused on why you had such a reaction. But then it clicks on him. The gauzes. The bandages. He was about to recoil from your touch as to hide his ugly arms away from you to see, but the feeling of a tender caress made him stop.

"Sweet thing," You whispered, your voice soft with concern as you pressed gentle kisses to Simon's wrapped wounds, your lips lingering over each bruise and cut you saw peeping out from the bandages. "You don't deserve anything like these..."

As Simon basked in the comfort and warmth of your loving touches, emotions rushed through. He wanted to let himself cry. He knew that the kisses would not heal his wounds instantly, but the gesture meant more to him than words could say.

The feelings of love and caring that surrounded him were almost too much to bear, and he could feel the tears welling up in his closed eyes. It had been such a long time since someone had cared for him in such a way, and now, as he was gently kissed and nurtured, he felt that he could finally let go of the pain. But even as the tears threatened to fall, he tried to stifle them, afraid of breaking the calmness that had enveloped him.

As you turned to Simon, your thumbs still gently carressing his bandaged hands, you were surprised to see that he was awake. You stopped what you were doing momentarily, letting the silence fill the room.

"Hi," You cheekily whispered to him, a smile gracing your lips as your heart swells with love for the man in front of you. He's just woken up, but even the fatigue in his eyes can't erase the warmth and affection that shines through when he looks at you.

"G'morning, lovie," Simon greets as he grew more soft towards you. The tired lines on his face soften as he takes you in, and you can't help but feel grateful for each moment you get to share with him. He brought up his hands and pulled you closer to him.

As your face was against his chest, the smell of him filled your nostrils with every breath, like a comforting embrace. You felt his heartbeat pounding beneath your ear. There was a comfort in his warm presence, a sense of safety that you could never find anywhere else. He was your home.

"Thank you," Simon muttered as his arms wrapped around you even firmer as if you would flee away if he didn't. His grip held you closely, as if he was afraid to let go and lose you to the world outside. He put his chin on top of your head and inhaled deeply, drawing comfort and reassurance from your presence. There was nowhere else he wanted to be, but right here with you.

Confused, you softly asked, your voice muffled against the small space between your face and his chest, "For what?"

Simon's heart skipped a beat when he heard your voice. He couldn't believe how cute you sounded when you spoke in that sweet, whisper-soft tone.

"For this?" he murmured, tightening his embrace around you and pulling you even closer, reveling in your warm, intoxicating scent. His voice was low, almost too low for you to hear over the beating of your hearts.

You pulled away from his embrace gently and put your hands on his cheeks. He looked up at you with a sweet smile and you couldn't help but return it.

"Of course," you murmur, pulling him even closer. Showering him with affection is just a normal, natural thing for you to do, especially when he is injured. "I'll take care of you, my love. Always."

And though it's so, so hard for him to admit, he's soft when it comes to you. He's always known that you take care of him, that's your role, but today he can't shake the feeling that it's not quite so simple. He tries to say no, tries to put up some resistance to your tender, gentle caresses, but the resolve is gone before it even arrives at his throat. He submits to you, like he always has and always will, as a contented smile plays across his lips.

"I will always be here for you, Simon", you continued softly as you stroke his hair. You want to make him feel taken care of, loved and protected, and it melts your heart seeing his relief as he buries his head into your chest. You know this is where he belongs, and you both feel at peace.

Your touch brings him comfort and peace, and you can feel the tension and worry easing away from his body. He leans against you and lets out a deep sigh, his muscles completely relaxed. In this moment, there is nothing else that matters. Just you and him.

Simon presses his face against your chest one last time, breathing in your scent and feeling your heart beating steadily beneath your skin, and he is at perfect peace. The two of you are finally home, together in each other's arms, and nothing will ever come between you.

A/N: ty bby for requesting this ! this ws so cute to write omg

[disturbedgerblin]

"Listeners, as I speak we are winding down to the final hours of a momentous occasion. For the second time, I am a contender for some sort of internet sexy gentleman award. An award for which I will gain nothing but online clout and the value of which--as far as I know--is not fungible in any known countries, dimensions, or time paradoxes. As before, everything comes down to the results of an internet poll. Truly the greatest tool of democracy, with the exception of those neat little 'I voted' stickers."

"But the outcome of this poll is of little concern to me. Because right now the sexiest man I know is at home, fast asleep on our couch. Curled up on his steadily rising chest is a cat that is there but is not there. The TV remote control is steadily slipping out of his hand. He is snoring now, but moments before, that man was watching the Last of Us show before falling asleep. Except not really because zombie stories frustrate him because they 'aren't based in science, Cecil,' and 'I've already synthesized five different antidotes in the event of a zombie outbreak, Cecil.' But he will watch the episodes anyway, because he knows I love zombie flicks, and I am scared of zombie flicks. And he will let me know when I should avert my eyes before a jumpscare is about to happen. How can you get any sexier than that?"

"A wise man at Ace Hardware Store once imparted these wise words: 'Measure twice, cut once.' He said this as he was purchasing a lot of plywood, so I'm assuming he had measured once, realized he had made an error after cutting and had to get more material--but his words still ring true. A poll measured once only reveals a snippet of what makes a sexyman sexy. It does not delve into the depth of legacy, the weight of experience, the height of thirst. Sexiness comes in many shapes and sizes. It takes two to tango, and three to cut a mango. And that's why I never cut my fruit alone."

"Listeners, I hope that after tonight, when all is said and done, you take a moment to look in the mirror, wave to the faceless woman staring back at you, and appreciate the tumblr sexyman that was inside all of us, all along. Good night, Night Vale. Good night. "

[bellafragolina]

It was a long day, or at least the past few hours were more grueling than usual.

Senshi sighed, carefully scrubbing the last of the cookware he had used making today’s supper. Everyone else was already asleep, curled up in their packs.

You were also asleep, despite your promises to help Senshi finish the cleanup. He could only smile to himself as you snored heavily against his shoulder, the bowl in your hands fallen into your lap.

It seemed you were not above the allure of a nap on a full stomach.

Senshi felt unimaginable pride whenever you were so well fed. You had mentioned before, a passing comment that held no real meaning to you but meant everything to Senshi, that you had never felt fullness quite like when you ate his cooking. It worried him to no end to think you weren’t eating enough, so he had started to feed you first, and feed you more if there was more to be shared.

The others picked up on it, of course. While you were just thankful and eager to eat, Marcille would poke his shoulder, whispers eager and prodding to work out the feelings he supposedly held towards you. Chilchuck too would sometimes make snide little jabs at him, snickering behind words of teasing about how he mothered you.

If Laios had noticed, he said nothing. But for all the supposed lack of awareness that the man had, he still gave Senshi a grin whenever you praised the dwarf’s cooking or fighting skills.

Senshi sighed heavily. Feelings, emotions, they could all be confusing. What he felt towards you in the moment he understood, he cared for you as he did the rest of the party, but he also wanted you best fed. If this was something more, he’d figure it out with time. There was no use rushing anything.

For now, he carefully dried his tools and sharpened his blades with you lying against him. A welcomed warmth, and a welcomed bit of company during a dreary task.

Even if you were dead asleep.

[eyelessfaces]

tousled, stubbled, tired

miguel o'hara x reader

well basically I've been obsessed with the concept art for miguel so it is heavily inspired by those (x). not my fault he looks so boyfriend

summary: miguel is on the edge of a burn out, and he's the only one not seeing it.

warnings: none too important I think, just miguel being really tired because he works a lot. swearing, one small (and cringe) innuendo.

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort?, nerdy miguel<3

word count: 2.1k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

Miguel hadn’t slept at home in days; you had been fairly accustomed to him leaving in the middle of the night for safety matters in Nueva York and coming back early in the morning, but now that the threat was multiversal and now that he was the leader of the spider society, he didn’t even bother getting to bed in the first place.

He in fact barely even left the spider society; the rare times he did were for missions, and when he came back he didn’t even take the time to catch a break; he always had something to fix, something to build, a new suit to work on, a machine to program, meetings, briefings, then more missions.

You wondered how he still had all that energy and where it came from, and you wondered how he hadn’t burnt out yet. 

Even the small naps he took from time to time – against his will, you had found him passed out on his desk one day, head resting over folded arms, mouth slightly opened, soft snores escaping – couldn't possibly make up for his lack of sleep, and even though his mutation may grant him more stamina and allow him to stay awake longer than the average human being, the dark circles under his eyes were the visual proof of his fatigue, and it was all you needed to try to drag his ass back home so he could get some rest.

You watched from a distance as Miguel was sitting on the floor, a monkey wrench in hand and a screw sitting between his lips. He looked focused, a small crease forming between his eyebrows as he tried to fix his machine – you had no idea what it was for, but you figured it must be important considering the significant amount of time he had already taken trying to fix it. 

Miguel gasped in surprise at your contact, slightly jumping at the sudden feeling of your hands over his shoulders, your unexpected and unannounced presence tearing him out of his developing state of drowsiness.

“Shit you scared me” he grunted softly, grabbing the screw at his mouth before turning to look back at you.

"Sorry" you apologized, bending to leave a kiss at the top of his head, your thumbs rubbing where his suit was peeking out under the baggy clothes he had been wearing for probably way too long. His shoulders muscles were stiff and you felt them tense even more when he turned back to his machine with a small sigh.

You joined him and pushed the hammer and nails out of the way before sitting down next to him. 

"When was the last time you went to the cafeteria for something other than the coffee?" you asked accusingly as you looked down at the empty mug beside him on the floor, your hand resting at the back of his neck, playing with the hair there.

He shrugged, still looking at the open hatch of the machine in front of him. 

“A bagel won’t keep me awake” he muttered, his voice slightly muffled by the object in his mouth as he tightened a bolt, putting his tool back on the floor with a clinking before grabbing another.

“You still need to eat, you won’t get to finish fixing this machine if you die first” you scolded him as your hand left him, looking at him sternly.

He turned to you and let go of his screw before putting a hand at your arm, his tired eyes boring into yours.

“I'll eat, I promise, but I'll do that once I'm done. I’m really close to getting it, I almost have it solved.” he declared, tilting his head towards the machine as his grip around your arm lightly tightened.

You closed your eyes and nodded once before you opened your mouth to talk again, but Miguel had already turned back to work at his machine. You let out a small sigh and grabbed the screw he previously had at his mouth to fiddle with it.

"When was the last time you had a real night of sleep? Because I don't recall seeing you in our bed in what– almost a week at least?"

"Are we playing 21 questions?" he asked sarcastically as he turned to you again, clearly beginning to lose patience. 

You paused and looked away from him, a small sigh leaving your mouth before you looked back in his direction.

"We're playing 'I'm worried about my boyfriend', it's a game where said boyfriend barely takes care of himself and drowns in work and in which everyone around him witnesses his vital needs getting neglected." you said as you didn’t even try to make it sound like a joke, just blatantly showing him how upset you were.

He pinched his lips before his gaze dropped to his lap.

“Miguel” you called. “Take a break. Please. This is a request for now but if you keep on being stubborn this is gonna become an order” you said as you shifted closer to him. 

"I don't wanna fight with you. I really don't" you nodded as you put a hand to his shoulder. 

"And you would lose, because you don't have enough energy to outbid, and it's gonna hurt your ego so it's best for the both of us if you just listen to me" you explained, a smile appearing over your face when he softly chuckled and shook his head. "Okay?" you asked raising your eyebrows, awaiting his response.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay" he nodded, his half lidded, tired and bloodshot eyes looking up at you. 

"Good" you pinched your lips in a smile as you brushed away the shorter strands of his tousled hair falling over his forehead, before leaving a kiss there.

He tiredly smiled at you when you pulled away, leaning into your touch when your fingers ghosted over the light stubble on his cheeks that had grown over the past few days.

You shrugged. “I like it” 

“I don’t.”

You chuckled at his harsh response, your hand fully resting at his cheek. “Come back home with me and we’ll shave it.” you shrugged. “After a well needed shower” you continued, teasing him as you pinched your nose and faked a wince, making him nudge your side as he huffed out a laugh.

“I know it’s getting critical, I just haven’t had the time for it” he said grunting as he got up from the floor. “Lyla even said 'I don’t have olfactory sensors but I know that you stink'” he mocked as he took a higher voice and imitated the sassy attitude of his AI, making quotation marks with his hands.

You laughed at the a-bit-too-accurate imitation and got up too when he offered you his hand to help you up.

"Come on, let's get you something to eat and go back home"

—

You were already sitting on your bathroom counter, razor in hand when Miguel came out of the shower, towel loosely hanging around his hips. 

“Sure you don’t wanna keep it?” you asked teasingly, pointing at your own face to refer to his five o’clock shadow as he walked up to you.

“No. I don’t wanna look like Peter B” he grumbled as he joined you. You huffed out a laugh and caged him with your legs, bringing him closer to you.

He let his forehead rest against your shoulder, planting his hands at either side of the counter while you brushed his wet and dripping hair back, almost shuddering as you felt the gentle scruff of his stubble against your skin when his face shifted to your neck.

“Alright” 

He tilted his head back up at you, the worn out expression over his face paining you. 

You took a hold of his face and shaved him in silence, and you didn’t blame him for the lack of conversation and clever things to say. He probably had been dealing with a lot of stuff this week, trying his best so things wouldn’t turn out to be catastrophic so he probably wanted it all to be quiet now.  

Following along his sharp and defined jawline, you shaved to the shape of his face, razor gently and thoroughly following each line, careful not to go too fast and slip and cut him. 

“I'm so tired. Working twenty-four seven didn’t give me time to realize it but now it's crushing me” he mumbled, his voice barely louder than a whisper so his movements wouldn't be too harsh and wouldn't make you slip.

“I know. It all comes crashing down one moment or another” you said with an empathetic smile, rubbing your thumb over his left cheek once you were done with that area. He responded with a small hum.

It didn't take too long for you to be over with your task, and you put the razor down by the sink before grabbing the aftershave bottle, squeezing the lotion onto your hands and gently lathering it over his face, appreciating the smell you never realized you were that used to.

"Done. All clean shaven" you declared as he put his hands at either side of your neck, smiling tiredly before slotting his lips against yours.

"Thank you" he softly smiled.

"Come on, let's get you dressed and let's get you to bed" you called as you jumped down from the counter, exiting the bathroom as he followed you to the bedroom.

—

“You know, at this point you could build us quarters at the spider society” you chuckled, rummaging into the closet looking for the same kind of comfortable clothes he had been wearing lately.

“Don’t tempt me, I could make that happen” he declared as he shifted from his sitting position to lay down onto the bed with a grunt. “That’s actually not a bad idea”

You hummed in reflexion. “I could look after you, make sure you’re not doing too much” you shrugged as you turned to him to throw him a pair of clean boxers.

“Forget about what I said. ‘Don’t need you to try to babysit me all the time, I already have Lyla for that” he chuckled as he let the towel down to put on the clothes you were progressively throwing at him.

“Where was she to babysit you these past few days?” you asked as you joined him and crawled onto the bed.

“Had to turn her off. You, I can’t” he teased with a small smirk plastered over his face before putting his shirt on, grunting as you pushed him back down onto the bed.

“Asshole” you playfully hit his chest, leaning down next to him. "Right, you could only turn me on." You stared at the ceiling as you waited for any type of response, a chuckle, a small laugh, a nudge, but nothing came, nothing happened. 

Your look darted to his direction, and you giggled as you watched him trying to hold back a laugh.

"That's a bad joke, for my defense I'm exhausted so it doesn't count" he shook his head, covering his eyes with his hand, desperately grunting.

"Yeah, right" you huffed out a laugh as you let your head rest over his chest. 

The tension quickly diffused, the atmosphere getting calmer and the room getting quieter as you absentmindedly let the tip of your fingers trace patterns over his chest slowly rising and falling.

"Thank you" he softly muttered, breaking the silence, tearing you out of your thoughts.

"What?" you asked, confused, your fingers stopping in their trail. 

"Thank you for dragging me out of there, out of this hole"

You paused and shifted so you could look back at him, propping your elbow next to his face, holding your chin in the palm of your hand.

"Miguel, you know I'll always have your back, right?" you rhetorically asked, your fingertips now tracing his face, all soft from the aftershave.

He nodded as his eyes darted to your face.

"Yeah. I know" he pinched his lips in a soft smile as he looked at you, fighting so his eyes could remain open. 

You mirrored his smile, leaning over so you could leave a kiss at his lips, running your fingers over the side of his face one last time.

“You can rest now. I got you”

He softly hummed before his eyes closed under the weight of the responsibilities weighing on him, a small sigh of relief leaving him as your fingers raked through his hair. 

It didn't take long for you to register he was asleep, his breath slowing down, the steady heaving of his chest and a peaceful expression over his face.

You couldn't bring yourself to move, couldn't bring yourself to leave him.

—

please give me feedback if you liked this, I appreciate every single comment and they motivate me to keep going!!

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[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

ari please give signs of life

Plis accept one fic and my apologies.

Bruce stroked your back and smiled a little. Warm from the bath and rubbed down with lotion. Covered in love bites and utterly pleasure drunk. You were asleep and snoring lightly- he considered it a successful evening.

He'd missed you. Being a pleasure dom wasn't- he'd never done that before he was with you. Not really. But- When you looked up at him, just resigned to going along with sex because that's just what you always did in a relationship. God. It sucked. You were so ready to just grin and bear it in the dark. To act impressed with him. Fake it to get it over with quickly.

And that, he was NOT willing to let happen. He'd stopped right there until he had... some tools. Some more toys. Until he had a better proof of concept for you. Until he could convince you that making you feel good was what did it for him- it was always at least a little true. But with you? He could watch you for days and never get bored.

You'd gotten so spoiled. It was adorable. You wanted him. You wanted him to love you and take care of you. You made him feel safe and secure enough to feel unashamed in your needs and wants- and that... that was a different kind of satisfying. Another kind of gift he never anticipated.

"Bruce?"

"Yes, Doctor?" he answered, stroking your back.

"Did we stop because you were mad at me?" you ask timidly.

"No," he hummed, holding you tighter and kissing the top of your head. "We stopped because you were incoherently pleasure drunk and I didn't think you could actually consent anymore," he chuckled. "I asked you if you remembered your safe word and all you could do was whimper- So I thought it was in your best interests to stop."

"Oh."

"But I wasn't angry at you. I was having a wonderful time. I missed you... and tying you to the bed."

"I missed you too," you murmur, nuzzling his chest. "Everything. Feels good. Safe."

"And there's no higher compliment I've ever been given," he said honestly," he said, cuddling you closer and tucking your furry blanket around you tenderly. Warmth spread through his chest. Lovers and sung his praises in the most elaborate terms, but no one had done it and meant it the way you did. "Do you need anything, sweetheart?"

"Just hold me? I don't- I don't feel right."

"I'm here. You're okay. You're safe," he soothed. "It's just a little drop. They can happen even if you feel good feelings. Things still get intense and your mind has trouble re-regulating the chemical receptors." He didn't know if that was right. Not really. But- it sounded good. And maybe that would help.

"You still love me?"

"Always," he murmured, "And tomorrow I'll prove it. With pancakes."

[ceilidho]

prompt: ghost works on an oil rig. he meets reader during his osha mandated 2 weeks off. (ns/fw)

-

Ghost experiences time like a sudden swarming of locusts. Absolutely devastating for a period, and then silence, just him to observe the aftermath of the wreckage. 

Work on an offshore oil rig is split into shifts of two weeks on, two weeks off. During his two weeks on, he spends his near twelve-hour shifts in constant motion, muscles aching to the point of fatigue, to the point of giving out where he lugs tools and parts across the rig. He contorts himself into all manner of positions for quick and long repairs, breaking his back day in and day out because that is what work expects of him. What he expects of himself. 

Lying motionless in his bed, the sound of Soap’s snoring from the bunk over him the only thing half-resembling a lullaby. Hours before sleep falls on him, and then suddenly it’s day again, opening grit-crusted eyes to the bottom of Soap’s bunk, metal and leather straps across the underside, and then he’s up and down the halls that are never big enough for him. He wakes up ravenous, never full. Hungering always.

It takes nearly a full three days onshore to get his bearings; he never quite loses his sealegs. 

Foam-topped beer at his local pub. That’s how Ghost fills his days off; the rest of his crew flock off to their families, some into the warm arms of whatever casual arrangement they’ve got going on outside of the rig. For Ghost, he finds solace in counting down the minutes until his OSHA mandated period of rest is over and it’s time to head back. 

There’s nothing waiting for him outside of the rig. Family home long since burned to the ground. He won’t even let his mind turn to the family in it. 

He’s on the fifth day of his union-enforced leave, hunched over the bar like usual and picking away at an order of fish and chips when he happens to look up and catch sight of you. You’re chattering away at the other end of the room, dressed like one of the waitresses. 

You’re new. Ghost learns as much when he turns to the bartender—an old friend of his, though he’d call him less of a friend and more of a familiar face that’s come to know his name after the years he’s spent at this particular pub—and it’s said like it’s a novelty. It is. New faces are rare in towns like this, working class towns far off from any big city. It’s the same reason he hasn’t fallen into bed with anyone in too many years to count, not when he sees the same old faces whenever he touches land.

With you though, it’s different. Ghost keeps an eye on you while he nurses his pint. It’s not hard to catch your eye; you’re new and keen and curious and when your eyes rove over the crowd that grows as night outside deepens, it’s impossible to skip over the shape of him. His line of work has shaped him into something strong and solid; linebacker-size, a condition of which is to never feel comfortable on any chair. 

Your eyes go wide for all of a second, betraying you. Momentarily desirous. Ghost sees it and feels it stir in him for once in years. No longer the perfunctory thing to be dealt with in the bathroom every morning after waking up, one calloused hand wrapped around his thick length, grunting with his release and then washing his hands off before getting started with the day’s errands. 

Ghost waits until he’s nearly at the end of his glass before stepping from his chair, heading out the front door. Before he exits, he makes sure to catch eyes with you again, something significant passing between the two of you. 

Cigarette in an alleyway beside the pub. Taking the glove off his hand so he can feel the cig between his fingers, feel the ash flake off past his knuckles. He’s leaning against the brick wall when you come out, apron tied demurely around your waist. 

It’s you that breaks the silence first. “Hi—haven’t seen you around before.”

He stares into your eyes for a spell, taking another pull before he tosses the butt to the ground, snuffing it out under his boot. “Wouldn’t imagine you had.”

You take a couple steps closer, despite yourself. Despite the fact that you know what you’re broadcasting, the way you look up at him from under your lashes, cheeks dusted with a blush that’s hardly visible in the dim light but for the way you make it obvious with the rest of you. 

“I just moved into town a couple days ago. Guess I’ll see you around more often—Gaz said you’re a regular.”

“‘Spose you could say that.” Time feels molasses slow for once; Ghost feels the edge of his lip curl up into something half-resembling a grin, in another time. “Don’t suppose you’re off for the night, are ya?” 

Your legs around his waist are softer than anything he’s touched in years. It’s a near revelation. There’s something in him that grows frantic when he finally has you on your back on his navy sheets; the sparseness of his bedroom hardly seems worthy of having you in it, but he won’t pass up the opportunity. His eyes go half-lidded when he gets between your legs, tongue flicking over your clit and laving over you from hole to hole. Greedy for it. 

His head spins when he finally slots himself over you and pumps into the soft warmth between your legs. The little bitten off noises, kitten-like moans that get trapped behind your teeth. Your arms are snaked around his neck, tightening like your pussy around his cock. His big hands clutch at your ass, squeezing into the flesh there; everything so soft. 

“None of that, love,” Ghost grunts into your neck, sucking dark bruises into the softness there. Hoping they flare bright in the morning light. “Want you loud. Gonna imagine this every time I’m alone and hard on the rig. Perfect little cunt.”

When he makes you come, fingers rubbing at your clit until you squeak, nails digging into the muscle of his back, it burns into his memory. Time stilling for once, segmented only by your quick breaths in. 

For the first time in longer than he can remember, his time off-shore can’t be long enough.

[akesdraws-blog]

Finding one of the turtles asleep on the couch

Version: 🎞️TMNT Bayverse🎞️

Who hasn't fallen asleep on the couch at some point? It happens to all of us, it could even happen to turtles.

⚔️Leonardo🍵

Like Donnie, it is very strange to see him asleep on the couch, but not impossible.

But for what you want, don't walk near this turtle if you see him collapsed on the couch.

Maybe you will say, why?

Well, Leo usually falls asleep on the couch only when he had a specifically heavy patrol and was also punished in the Hashi, and maybe you will say, What's wrong with that? Well, Leo ends a a little more tired than normal, which causes him to fall asleep, but also his reflexes to take over.

That's how it is.Walking near Leo when he is like this will probably only cause some accidental bumps. (Almost all in the abdomen and legs)

Casey was unlucky to find out after spending almost half an hour writhing in pain on the floor while he hugged his aching stomach.

Only Splinter is able to wake him up to go sleep in her room. (He is the only one with enough reflexes to avoid a blow)

Another thing, although it may not seem like it, Leo would be the guy with a very heavy sleep, Mikey could be playing his drums with all his energy, Donnie could be using one of his loudest tools, even Raph could be using the blender to prepare his protein shake, no one knows how Leo can sleep like that, but he'll wake up practically right away if a little bit of light hits his face.

🥊Raphael🧸

He is one of those most likely to see you asleep on the couch.

Maybe there was a “Fast and Furious” movie marathon.

But everyone will know he's in the room by the loud snoring that echoes through the sewer.

No matter how hard you try to wake him up, it's just not possible.

Raph will just say 5 more minutes and he'll fall asleep again.

Although he is also an honest grump.

You could ask him anything and he'll grumble back at you.

And he will literally say anything you ask him.

Last time Mikey asked if he loved him (at first he just wanted to see him frown and take a picture), and in response he received an honest reading of how much she adored his little brother, no matter how many times she made him angry. (Mikey almost cried after that)

While asleep he is so honest that sometimes his brothers use him as a kind of psychologist.

Leo even apologizes for the times they have fought, Donnie sometimes lets out some insecurities, Mikey just wants to hear his brother say that he loves him.

But changing the topic.

If you want to wake up this big turtle, just move one of his weights and he'll be there in a second.He does not like the weight to be modified or altered if he has not been notified beforehand.

Do it and he'll be checking every weight he has for about an hour.

⚛️Donatello ⚗️

Seeing him asleep is practically a miracle, because this adorable mad scientist doesn't sleep unless his body screams it at him.

So when you enter the lair and discover that the one on the couch is none other than Donnie, it's a huge surprise.

Of course, that also comes with certain caveats.

1. Don't try to wake him up or tell him to go to bed. (If you do, the thought of going back to sleep won't cross his mind again.)

2. Don't try to prank him when he's in that state. (Everyone learned the hard way that they shouldn't do it, and I'm talking about EVERYONE, even if you are their partner, revenge will come to you if you dare to do it)

3. Do not touch anything that has been left lying around.

The last one is the most important. Don't try to tidy it up, don't try to pick up the trash, don't even think about moving that plate with a half-eaten slice of pizza on it.

For heaven's sake, don't do it.

Because when Donnie wakes up and notices something different, he'll spend a full hour complaining that it wasn't a mess, it was a materialized brainstorm.

That's right, it seems that the empty soda can that Leo had thrown over had a purpose.

So if you don't want to have a dramatic Donnie, don't move anything around him.

🎉Michelangelo🍕

He is the one we will always see asleep on the couch.

Most likely, he tried to defeat a final boss from his most recent video game. (Courtesy of April)

So sometimes you could see his fingers move.

Donnie discovered that it was a combo that Mikey creates in his head and he writes it down so when Mikey wakes up he applies it. (And he copies it for when he wants to have an advantage)

But you should be careful if he stayed up late because of a horror movie marathon.

Because at any moment you can hear him screaming as loud as his lungs allow... and then he falls asleep again.

That's something everyone has experienced when Mikey is asleep after a horror movie.

Leo almost always loses his balance due to his brother's unexpected scream, but in the end he considers it as involuntary training for his reflexes.

Raph ends up breaking his comic book, or his water bottles burst from the force with which he crushes them in surprise.

Donnie ends up breaking his keyboard, or an experiment explodes.

°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•

Hello everyone!, here returning from the lowest of my emotional state.

But here we are!

Tags: (Because it hasn't been tagged for a long time)

@turtle-babe83 . @dilucsflame33 . @thelaundrybitch . @scholastic-dragon . @leosgirl82 . @tmnt-tychou .@little-bunny-in-space . @happymoonangel . @lazyafgurl . @kikithedreamerwriter .@androidships007.

[anxiouspineapple99]

Title Prompt: I'll drop a few below and you can choose which one inspired the most. I'll let you decide if it's SFW or NSFW and write whatever you'd like.

- Little Lies & Brown Eyes

- Under a Bright Coruscant Sky

- What Happens on Nar Shadda...

No Rules, No Requirements, and No Rush!

Little Lies & Brown Eyes

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

Summary: A game of “Two Truths, and a Lie” turns spicy!

Warnings: MINORS DNI. Recreational drinking, fingering, unprotected PiV, oral (f receiving), cxm eating, Dom!Tech, praise kink

Word Count: 1972

A/N: The semester is over! Which means I’m kicking off the break with smut. This is porn with a smattering of feelings. It’s filthy. I’m unsure what possessed me when I wrote this because I read it back and made myself blush. Thank you for the prompt @523rdrebel and thank you for being so patient while I took literal months to answer lol

Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair had made their own plans for this bout of shore leave which left you and Tech alone to enjoy each other’s company, something that you were quite delighted about if you did say so yourself. You found the tall bespectacled clone of Clone Force 99 to be unbelievably handsome and his mannerisms positively endearing. You loved when he asked you to help him tinker on the Marauder or chose you to share all of his new findings. Most of all you loved being the focus of his attention when it was just the two of you.

The evening started like the handful of others had in the past, the two of you tinkering under the console of the Marauder. You handed him tools as he talked about anything and everything on his mind.

Now, Tech wasn’t one for lying. He never saw any point in it. According to him it was a ‘superfluous detour toward the inevitable truth that was bound to emerge anyway. The truth is simply faster.’ You always appreciated that about him. His bluntness was refreshing (albeit sometimes harsh) and you valued that you could always count on it. Which was why two truths and a lie seemed like the perfect game.

You sat across from him, rosy cheeked, giggling. Breathtaking as always, he’d thought to himself. You weren’t drunk yet, but you were certainly teetering on the edge. The truths and lies started off benignly, mostly about favorite foods or hobbies.

“Alright, it’s your turn. Two truths and a lie, please. I am quite good at this game so make this one a challenge!” Tech puffed his chest out proudly before adjusting his goggles. You couldn’t fight your silly smile before you continued.

“Okay! So… I find you attractive. I am allergic to blumfruit. And… my childhood tooka was named Cuddles!” You leaned back.

Tech rested an elbow on his knee, “Well that is easy. Clearly the lie is that you find me attractive.”

You leaned in, nearly nose to nose with him, a playful smile crossed your lips as you answered, “Nope,” with an emphasized pop of the ‘p’. ��I am not allergic to blumfruit.”

“Fascinating…”

You leaned back in the copilot seat, “Your turn, Tech!”

His leg bounced as he rested his chin in his hand.

His fingers tapped on his knee as he began to answer, “Very well. Wrecker’s snoring is the reason I sleep in the cockpit most of the time.” He paused, his eyes darkening behind his goggles. “I prefer wine to spotchka.” With his final statement he leaned in, narrowing his eyes, “And I should very much like to kiss you.”

You suddenly felt as sober as a judge.

“Wh-what?”

“Shall I repeat my statements? Perhaps I should enunciate more,” he rasped a tinge of lust colored his voice.

Your stomach turned. He couldn’t possibly…could he?

“N-no, ahh, wanting to kiss me. That’s the lie.”

He leaned into the backrest of the pilot seat, his back the straightest you’d ever seen it.

“Incorrect. I have no preference for alcoholic beverages. I will drink just about anything.”

You gulped, your eyes traveled to his lips. You clenched your thighs to quell the ever present arousal you felt in his presence. You watched wide eyed as he rose from his seat and filled the space between you. He caged you into the copilot seat, his brown eyes roving over you. He softly took your chin between his gloved thumb and index finger lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and reserved, the opposite of his burning eyes.

He pulled back only slightly and tutted, “All those little lies, mesh’la. Did you really need those to tell me how you felt?”

An airy laugh huffed from your chest. “You’re one to talk.”

“I simply had not yet found an opportune moment,” he crooned against your lips. “Stand up.”

The command startled you at first. You were unaccustomed to Tech being so assertive.

“Mesh’la. I said stand. Up.”

Wordlessly, Tech guided you to your feet and turned your back to the console.

“You’ll need to use your words, darling. I need to know you want this too,” he growled into your ear sending chills down your spine and soaking your panties.

“Maker, yes please, Tech,” you whined as he trailed kisses from your neck to your collarbone.

“Mmm… good girl,” he sighed as he ran two gloved fingers along the outline of your breasts. Those two fingers ghosted down your sternum, along your stomach, and to the hem of your skirt. Meanwhile your own hands were exploring the edges of his armor.

He dragged those same two fingers up the inside of your thigh and pressed them to the soaked cloth covering your sex. You whined at his touch, desperately wanting him inside you.

“Oh dear,” he chuckled, removing his hand, “you’ve soaked my glove, mesh’la. Well, it only seems fair that you remove it for me.”

You made to reach for his gloved fingers when he held them to your lips and scolded, “Ah, with your mouth. Open.”

You opened your mouth and he slotted his fingers inside, almost choking you and then slowly dragged them back along your tongue ensuring you tasted yourself on his fingers. He paused long enough for you to bite down on the tip of the glove to pull it off. He then slid your panties off, tucking them in one of the many pouches on his utility belt.

His gloveless hand returned to your soaked folds, toying first with your clit and then sliding one exquisite digit inside of you. You bucked your hips in response, moaning loudly.

“I have wanted this for so long, cyare. To have you on the console of my ship, screaming my name. You will scream my name for me won’t you, good girl.” His tone was clear, that was an order. Not a question.

“Anything you want, sir.” You gasped through waves of pleasure as Tech swirled and thrust his finger, quickly learning which patterns elicited the greatest reactions.

The emphasis of that word unleashed an utterly primal side of Tech you’d never seen. His mouth crashed into yours, his tongue eagerly seeking entrance as he pressed his body to yours. He inserted a second finger inside you, your walls twitching in response to the stretch. He easily reached the delicate spot inside of you, pressing and stroking rhythmically, pushing you rapidly to the precipice.

“What a good girl you are. Who do you belong to?”

His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking leaving his marks. His brothers were going to come back and know exactly who you belonged to.

“Y-you Tech! I belong to you!”

And just as you promised him, you screamed his name as you crested your peak, your legs quaking with the intensity of your release.

He pressed his cheek to yours, “Are you ready, ner sarad? Are you ready for me to fill you up?”

You leaned into his touch, “Please, sir. I need to feel you inside of me, I feel so empty without you.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he freed his throbbing cock already soaked with precum from his blacks in one swift movement. You were in awe of how long he was and hoped the next time you did this you could suck him off until he couldn’t walk the next day. Your fantasy of Tech fucking your mouth was cut short as he lifted you with ease and laid you on the console. He slid his cock within the walls of your pussy slowly and gently allowing you both to relish the bliss you were experiencing. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he caged you in. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whined into his ear as he bottomed out inside you, stretching you perfectly.

“So perfect, cyare. If I didn't know better I would think you had been made just for me,” he cooed, the sweet praise making your heart flutter.

“Please fuck me, Tech.” You gasped, the plea falling from your lips with agonizing desperation. You needed him to move, to rock his hips into yours and fill you to the brim.

“With pleasure,” he cooed with a smile and a soft kiss to your forehead.

He slowly pulled back and pushed back in, his eyes locked on yours gauging your reaction. Once. Twice. Again and again his thrusts were steadfast and precise. You threw your head back, moaning his name with each thrust.

“Mine,” he growled as his fingers grasped the back of your neck and your hips with nearly painful intensity.

Gradually he increased his pace, intentionally grinding his pelvis into your sensitive bud with each calculated movement. He grunted soft words of adoration and praise, still licking and biting at every inch of exposed skin. And with each thrust you felt him push you closer to your second release. You scraped your nails along his scalp as you cried his name with your volume matching the intensity of your pleasure. He followed suit with a shuddering sigh into your neck.

He pressed his chest to yours, dusting soft doting kisses along your neck, cheeks, and forehead. Your legs remained locked around his waist as he slowly softened inside of you.

He carried you to his rack, laying you down gently, pausing for a moment and smiling as if admiring a piece of art.

“Tech?” You felt exposed despite still being mostly clothed.

“Hm? Ah. My apologies cyare. You are just a divine creature and I am taking in your radiance.” He sat by your feet, running his hand up your thigh. “Now, why don’t you take the rest of your clothing off? I wish to worship you properly.”

You’d never shimmied out of clothing so quickly. You fought the urge to cover up.

He stared at your pussy still dripping with cum, both yours and his, hungrily.

“This,” he growled, lust soaking his words. “Should do nicely.”

He needed to taste you, the perfectly unique combination of you and him. He lifted your knees over his shoulders, a growl rumbling in his chest as his eyes never left your drenched sex. He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead before trailing open mouthed kisses up your thigh. His lithe fingers squeezed your thighs before licking a strip up your folds. You keened beneath him, arousal burning deep within you once more.

He sucked lightly on your clit, flicking his tongue across it sporadically until you were a writhing, mewling mess. You could feel his smile widening as his tongue slowly crept closer to your entrance. All at once he thrust his tongue inside you, his own groans rumbling into you, pushing you closer to climax once more. He devoured you, kissing, licking, sucking and biting at every inch of you. And once he was satisfied, he pressed his thumb to your clit rubbing soft circles as he continued thrust his tongue inside you. He worked you until your legs were shaking and you chanted his name like it was the only word you knew.

He looked up at you from between your thighs, a smirk adorned his lips as he pulled his goggles back into place. “That was…satisfactory?”

You gawked. “Exemplary, actually.”

He nodded, a hint of arrogance flashing in his eyes. He reached into his footlocker, pulling out a towel and began to clean you up.

“The others will be returning soon. You should get dressed. I’d prefer this,” he gestured toward your nude form, “be only for me.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips as you leaned in, kissing him softly. “It is. Only for you.”

Spicy Ragu For You: @secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @dystopicjumpsuit @mooncommlink @moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @starqueensside @mandos-mind-trick @multi-fan-dom-madness @808tsuika @msmeredithrose @trixie2023 @wolffegirlsunite @mythical-illustrator @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @ladyzirkonia @eyeluvmusic21 @523rdrebel @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @littlemissmanga @sinfulsalutations @dickarchivist @eclec-tech @dreamie411 @flyiingsly @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @cw80831 @eternal-transcience-spice

[gildedkrone]

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

The house is quiet; Luna had slinked off somewhere in the house and a cat shaped blur of white in the yard under the afternoon sun is your answer.

Johnny is splayed across the couch in a slumbering man—one arm across his torso with the other resting beside his head on a cushion. Today, he opted for a small white singlet ending above his navel as it showcased his abs and a v-line disappearing into a pair of military-issued olive briefs.

The happy trail disappearing into his briefs is tantalising, to say the least. With each shift of his body, the briefs only seemed to slide lower until the bush peeks through the waistband and the tight garment holds onto the bulge in fear of sliding right off.

What a fucking tease to wear clothes from basic training which no longer fit his more muscled body. He’s sleeping now, and the conversation from a week ago rears its head.

“Whit if ye made me cum whin I was sleeping?” You almost choked on your food when the words slipped through his mouth full of meal.

“What?” And he’s appearing all innocent and what not.

“Dinnae yi'll waant tae fin' oot?”

“I don’t understand you, dummy.”

“Aw, c’mon bonnie, don’t you want to find out?”

The truth is you wanted to find out and with nothing else to do, the offer stands tempting. He is fast asleep and you fingers gently brush across his briefs. They catch on the opening in the garment and his face keeps its slack.

Fuck, were you actually going to do this?

Your hand evidently thought so and palmed him gently through the fabric amidst steady snoring. It took a while, but eventually, there is a stirring in his loins and the small garment is stretched obscenely as the bulge becomes even more pronounced. And you would be lying if this wasn’t at all arousing.

Taking pity on his tool, and not wanting to cause him any discomfort, you freed his dick through the piss hole in his slutty man briefs. The smack against your forearm by his engorged length when you let go freezes you just as Johnny makes a noise before his snores resume.

A man’s heartbeat is fluttering in motion.

Johnny is a big boy. Even somewhat hard, it’s length is more than half of your forearm. Curved slightly, for his partner’s pleasure and in a slightly darker shade above a neat bush adorning, according to Johnny, his favourite body part. Your tongue gently brushes against the bulbous head and pretty pink lips part in response to your tongue snaking all the way down to the base of his dick. You keep an eye on him throughout and noted the small twitching of his lips whenever your tongue ran over the thick throbbing vein spanning his entire dick.

Johnny has a dislike for jerking off in the military and given his last orgasm was probably two weeks ago, it’s no wonder Johnny is pent up to some degree. You taste his salty pre and the skilled tongue pulls the first of many moans from his guttural throat.

A man’s heartbeat is living in motion.

His length rests on his thigh and your nose inhales the musk of his groin—manly and reeking of ball sweat since Johnny’s a man who ran hot—and your tongue finds purchase on the plump sack below the main attraction. His soft breaths turn into a whine as a finger trace the individual testes while his fingers curl and unfurl.

Thirst.

Thirst is what you feel when you rolled his balls across your tongue to engulf his prized possessions in wet heat. His dick has risen to full mast—an angry and reddish head leaks copious amounts of pre onto his thigh and dully throbbing, it’s indicative of the stress wracking his body. As his partner, you are duty bound to … relieve him of the tension. Empty his balls so he can have a better sleep.

So you redouble your efforts on his very sensitive sack and Johnny makes all sorts of noises—whines, moan, groans, and whimpers as he twists and turns in his sleep. His head rolls over and his arms jerks in time with his lascivious thighs. You made sure to leave his dick alone and focus the assault on his scrotum. He shivers and your nose is pressed further into his bush when the seam running through the middle of his scrotum is grazed by your teeth and cushioned by drool.

A quick glance up reveals the man to be erect as two nubs poke through the tight singlet. He body seizes slightly when you roll them between your fingers. While keeping his nuts occupied, to your pleasure, he mutters more and drool seeps onto the cushion from the rolling of his head. His face reflects what he’s feeling with lips nicely parted while his body subconsciously squirms under your palm and tongue.

A man’s heartbeat is resonance in motion.

“mmrow … please … mmow …”

It’s been slightly over fifteen minutes since you began; the rippling of his toned abs accompanies the jerky flexing of his feet. Johnny is still under the influence of slumber and pure innocence on man known for military violence is a scarlet fire of temptation beckoning you to service him. You smear his pre across his balls and the ignored shaft occasionally moves with the contraction of his groin muscles and lifts strings of pre into the air. It’s a tantalizing sight to behold as his face furrows as if in deep concentration—the narrowing of his eyebrows and tightness in his cheeks even as he continues to verbalise how good he feels in his dreams.

It's time to bring him home. A man in pleasure is vulnerable man indeed—and Johnny’s about to find out why. Your tongue rolls his nuts between teeth as a hand cups his sack while another plays with his nipples. A little pain does the trick and you give his testicles a squeeze in sharp contrast together with a deep hum vibrating through his entire groin and your eyes slide over to his neglected dick.

Johnny nearly shouts; his hands fists above his chest and his knees jerks and misses your face by inches while he blearily calls your name in confusion. His abdomen contracts hard and his dick jumps slightly before white leaks out of the piss slit.

“Loue … whit's … gaun oan mmph!”

His eyes are laced with sleep in a slightly raised head. Blurry eyes spot you nestled between his legs and mouthing on his balls as his mind starts to piece together what’s happening. His hips shake in place; without a hand on his dick he is confused where the pleasure is and where to direct his hips as toes curl with how euphoric his genitals feel. More awake, much louder gasp and expletives escapes his throat as he grips your head and pulls it deeper into his pelvis.

A man’s heartbeat is satiation in motion.

A thick stream of cum runs off the side of his thighs onto the couch. You lather your fingers in them before crawling forward to shove them into his mouth. His waking mind registers your fingers and starts sucking while excess cum pools on his thighs. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your torso.

“Hell's bells that's a hell o' a wey tae wake up loue.”

“I don’t speak Scottish, shit for hair.” To be fair, that does make it easier to tug his head.

“This’ a hell of a wake up routine, love and yer said you loved mah mohawk last week!”

“Bet you had a good dream huh?” He describes a fog in his mind slowly invading his loins with heat and itch. Waking to you with a mouth stuffed by his junk was the tipping point—his eager dick packs disobedience and comes hands free. You earn a contented moan when you roughly palm his spent dick as he pulls you in for tight embrace.

“Johnny, unhand me.” You push against him arms which have come to cage you in as he shakes his head. He chuffs and nestles his dick between your thighs.

“A'm still sleepy. A bit mair, love.”

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

[skellymom]

"I'M YOUR MAN"

Hunter x Jedi Fem Reader Supporting Character. SMUTTY++

Background: This one shot starts out very similar to my "Hunt and Peck" one shot. However, it's not just a Force Sensitive, but an actual Jedi. And, his Batchmates aren't in on the shenanigans. This is the VERY dirty version of "Hunt and Peck" but Hunter goes "solo".

I wanted to write a smutty fic from INSIDE Hunter's head space. We hardly ever really know what's going on in there. Well, now you do!

Word Count: 2.1K

WARNING: Male masturbation, oral sex, genital sex, spit kink, swearing kink, dirty word kink, praise kink, names of various sexual positions, bodily fluids, lots of dirty nasty sexy stuff. Lots of it. Very LEMONY content! 

The Batch finished up their latest mission, picking up a new passenger along the way.  Y/N was a Jedi hitching a ride to a planet they would be passing on the way to Kamino.  She would only be staying a few standard days on the Marauder, and the crew made sure she had a comfortable stay. 

Within two days Hunter was smitten.  He usually kept his infatuations to himself as best he could...ESPECIALLY with female Jedi.  But...well, this one was different...and difficult to ignore.  Of course, he still engaged with her politely and respectfully.  Being a Sergeant and host on this transport, he kept some distance. 

Y/N was attractive.  Not conventionally, as he wouldn’t consider himself attracted to just ANY pretty face.  But she had that...thing.  An essence?  Something that just took him out at the knees.  It was elusive... 

...and she smelled SO GOOD.  Hell, even when she was sweaty, dirty, just got woke up in the morning...heady scent of her body odor with the slightest tang of her sex... 

Hunter shifted in the pilot’s seat.  His armor codpiece felt tight.  Dammit, he NEEDED to stop getting distracted.  He was supposed to be sitting watch on the ship. 

Technically Echo was to stand this shift.  However, he was under the weather and now lying down like the rest of his brothers. 

Hunter could hear Crosshair breathing, Echo’s ticking mechanical heart, and smell Tech’s drool...as he slept face down with mouth open.  Wreckers' snores were like a power tool, until his sleep apnea kicked in. Hunter would count the seconds unconsciously holding his own breath too...until Wrecker finally inhaled. 

Hunter inhaled deeply just thinking about it... 

...until Y/N sighed in her sleep.  The sound brought his attention back to the heat and tightness in his groin.  Hunter’s cock was now becoming painful with an intense pressure against his codpiece. 

Oh STARS!  How did the other Clones deal with this???  Commander Bly following Aayla Secura around while she exposed all that beautiful blue skin.  Or Deepa Billoba with her pretty braids and deep scarlet lips... 

...then there was his first crush: Shaak Ti.  A tall stunning Togruta with her long montrals and head tails. 

DANK FERRICK!  Y/N did look at him a lot and smiled. He could sense her body reacting to him MUCH differently than his brothers.  The thrumming of her presence on his senses.  Something he guessed was her Force sensitivity.  It would tickle his nerve endings and make him shiver...in a VERY good way.  Was Y/N flirting with the Force?  Hunter wasn’t exactly sure.  Was that even ALLOWED? 

Hunter ripped the codpiece off and tossed it onto the Marauder’s dash.  His girthy engorged cock staining through his blacks...and leaving a wet spot.   

These Jedi women are going to be the death of me! 

Who was he kidding...WOMEN drove him crazy!!! 

The last thing Hunter wanted was to cause any trouble...especially with a Jedi. 

He had to take care of this situation...and put IT to “rest” ...NOW. 

Walking back to the refresher wasn’t an option.  He didn’t want to wake anyone, and he was supposed to be on watch. 

Listening again, Hunter could perceive everyone was asleep and accounted for.  He slid down comfortably in the pilot’s chair.  Noting that Tech left one of his hand rags for mechanical maintenance hanging up in the cockpit, Hunter grabbed it for clean up later. 

Looking around and listening one last time, Hunter gently rolled down his blacks and released his cock.  Its meaty girthiness sprung up at attention.  Uncut and big enough to satisfy, but not so large as to be painful.  Poor Wrecker...Hunter thought fleetingly.  So big he must hold back constantly to not injure.  Gotta be stressful.  People would give Hunter shit for being the smallest of the group.  Heh, average ain’t bad.  Especially since he exceeded at technique. 

What was the saying on Kamino?  Yeah...It’s not the size of the ship, but the motion of the ocean. 

The head of his penis peeked out from the uncut foreskin.  Hunter smoothed his thumb through the large drop of precum and rubbed gentle circles on the top of his cock.  He shivered from the sensation but held back a gentle moan.  He needed to be extra quiet.  Keeping his mouth shut, Hunter also regulated his breathing. 

Next, he cupped his cock in hand and gently but firmly pulled back his foreskin.  Then he gave his shaft a few good pumps. 

... A very feminine scent wafted from the pallet Y/N was sleeping on the bunk room floor.  She must have been having a hell of a dream...as Hunter could smell her wet arousal.  To her credit, she was extremely quiet. 

The smell drove him crazy.  More precum leaked from his cock.   

Hunter closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to bury his face in Y/N’s pussy.  He inhaled her scent and pictured himself licking and sucking her clit.  How she would look from that point of view.  Staring up over her mons pubis to see her writhe and sweat.  Hair messed, face and chest flushed as he teased her to orgasm over and over again.  Screaming his name, asking for more.  

FUCK, he LOVED EATING PUSSY!  LOVED watching his lovers lose themselves in ecstasy.  Loved when they praised his talent for the job.   

And, if they wanted to be fingered while he dined, he happily obliged.  Gently of course...unless she insisted on it being rough.  He followed directions very well and kept the channels of communication open.  How many fingers?  How’s that feel?  You like how I’m fingering you?  Tell me.  I wanna hear you tell me.  Yeah...whatever you want.  I’m your man.  Mmmm...You’re so FUCKING beautiful!  

Pumping his cock, occasionally coming up to rub the leaking precum across his head and frenulum with his thumb.  The mental image fueling his desire and the tingling of his penis. 

Hunter also LOVED breasts.  Big, small, he serviced them all.  Lick them, kiss, twist, cup.  But, he wasn’t in a hurry.  No, Hunter wanted to appreciate the other parts of his lover's body and work his way there.   

Nibbling Y/N’s thighs, tender kisses on her stomach.  Women worry too much about their bellies.  Who the fuck made them feel so insecure?  Hunter wasn’t gonna get mad.  He didn’t have time for that.  Bring that belly here and let me worship it.  The asshole that made you feel bad about that part of your body isn’t here...I AM.  Look me right in the eyes.  Yeah, hold that eye contact.  Listen to me.  I’m gonna make your body SING tonight.  I wanna make you feel desirable...’cause you are.  Now, grab my hair if you feel ya gotta hold on tight!  

Pumped his wet cock a bit more... 

AND ASSES!  All sizes.  Firm and jiggly...flat and flabby... 

Fuck the guy who told you your ass wasn’t pretty.  Probably the same dipshit who razzed you about your other body parts. 

I’m here to tell ya:  Your body parts make my cock wanna give you a standing ovation.  I’ll happily kiss ANYTHING on your body, if it’ll get you off.  Even the stuff you might be worried is too nasty and dirty.  I’ll be as clean as you request or dirty as ya care to ask for. 

Hunter needed to stay on track.  All the blood was rushing to his lower extremities, making him a bit punch drunk.  His eyes were half closed with horniness. 

And he needed a bit more lubrication. Hunter leaned over his swollen member and spit on it delicately. The extra slide felt amazing. 

Oh yeah...Hunter was getting ahead of himself.  In his mind Y/N requested he kiss and suckle her breasts. In his mind, she moaned and raked at his back. Mmmmhmm...I wanna hear you. Tell me how much you like this. He moved up to lavish her neck with kisses, grinding his slippery member through her sex. The sound was loud and wet. Smells sooo good. Whispering in her ear, pressing his nose against her cheek You feel so good! FUCK...Hunter shivered, his cock twitching with anticipation. 

Are you ready for me?  Yeah?  Gonna take my time, okay?  I’m in no hurry...unless you WANT me to fuck you hard and put you away wet?  I aim to please.  So swollen and hard right now...could grab you around the legs, hoist ya up, and nail ya silly.  Missionary?  Doggie style?  Cowgirl?  Reverse Cowgirl?  Vertical or Horizonal, I’m strong enough to get ya there.  

No?  Ok.  Just give me the word.  And I’ll take it nice...and easy.  

Hunter slowed down the momentum on his cock.  Stroking gently to prolong his arousal and not cum too soon.    

What about me, you say?  Heh...REALLY enjoying my time with you.  I’m a man of variety.  Whatever you want, I’m along for...ahem...the ride.  However long it takes. 

You wanna suck my cock?  Well...chuckles...I won’t say NO to a good blow.  Just ask you tease me a bit.  He imagined the wet softness of Y/N’s mouth on his member.  Swirling her tongue over his head, shaft... 

...her hand firmly gripping his balls and he gripped them now... 

...pumping his cock...gathering momentum. 

Wanna blow my seed in your cunt, while I’m holding you.  Full body skin on skin contact while I’m inside you.  My uncut foreskin rubbing your pink jellybean clit while my cock caresses your G-spot.  Bonus if I get to taste your mouth while you moan into mine. 

Hunter lifted his pelvis off the seat, bracing his legs and abdomen...adding pressure to his core and the root of his sex.  He slid his cock back and forth through his wet hand, gritting his teeth, and sweating. 

I’ll do EVERYTHING in my power to take you over the edge ONE more time before I do.  I got the stamina to fuck, suck, and caress you all night if it’s what you request of me.  Over and over again. 

I’m YOUR MAN. 

As Hunter came, a very sudden and explosive scream erupted from the bunk room!   

Hunter let go of his scrotum and slapped a hand over his mouth to hold back his violent moans.  An intense, warm orgasm shot through his body. Hunter came SO HARD it hit the ceiling of the Marauder’s cockpit with an audible THUMP! A climax so sudden and strong, he shook and was unable to stand. 

The bunk room erupted in chaos. Wrecker had fallen off the top bunk from sheer terror. Tech started awake and flung his datapad across the room...hitting Crosshair in the head. Only Echo remained unscathed as he slipped unaided by his prosthetics from the bottom bunk to the Jedi’s pallet on the floor. 

He put his one intact arm around the Jedi. “Ma’am, are you ok?” 

She, sweating, flushed, and breathing heavily, “Oh...” stammered, “A dream.” 

“Sounded like a NIGHTMARE!” Wrecker recovered from his fall. 

The Jedi laughed nervously. 

Tech finally found his goggles amongst the bedcovers, slapped them on, and ran to the refresher. “I’ll retrieve a glass of water for our guest.” 

Crosshair rubbed the goose egg developing on his forehead. “Bring a bacta patch while you’re in there too!” 

“Where the HELL is HUNTER???” Echo thundered. 

On command Hunter slid into the bunk room. “What happened? Must have fallen asleep on watch!” 

Echo turned to Hunter “Our Guest gave us quite a scare.” He looked puzzled as Hunter NEVER fell asleep on watch. “Due to a dream.” 

Tech ran in and handed the Jedi a full canteen of water and a small towelette for her sweaty brow.  

“Thank you, Tech.” She dabbed herself and sipped from the canteen...purposely keeping her eyes averted from the Sergeant. 

“Bacta patch?” Crosshair growled at Tech. 

“I ONLY have two hands, Crosshair!” Tech sassed his way back to the refresher. 

“Looking a little FLUSHED too, Hunter. Sure you’re FEELING well? Crosshair sneered. 

Hunter was just about to tell Crosshair to shut his pie hole when the Jedi interrupted. “I... think I’m ready to go back to sleep.” 

“Alright.” Echo got back into his bunk. “You need ANYTHING, we’re right here.” 

“I’m feeling better now.” She sighed.  "Thank you Echo."

Wrecker leaned down and handed Lula to Y/N. “Lula will help you sleep the rest of the night.” 

“Thank you, Wrecker.” 

Crosshair sneered at Hunter who turned to go back to his watch station. 

Tech unpeeled the bacta patch and slapped it over Crosshair’s pie hole, then turned out the lights.

Next morning the Marauder landed at the Jedi’s destination. She thanked The Batch and descended the gangplank. Sergeant Hunter was the last to say goodbye and salute her. 

“I must thank you, btw.” She blushed demurely and smiled. 

Hunter looked confused and glanced to see where his Batchmates were at. They had already retreated into the ship, preparing to leave the planet. 

“Uh...for what?” 

“For being...MY MAN... last night.” 

Hunter blushed crimson red... speechless but had SO MANY questions. 

“I know what you’re thinking Sergeant. Jedi CAN have...relations. They just can’t be possessive attachments. And... technically we never physically touched...” 

She winked and walked away towards her destination. 

And that was how Hunter was literally mind-fucked by a Jedi. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

[fortunatelyandrogynousheart]

Shadow Company and Phillip Graves headcanons

Phillip Graves is afraid of large insects. Has hated them his entire life. Makes his Shadows kill them whenever one enters the base.

Graves takes the Shadows to his big, expensive ranch for Christmas, Hannukah or whatever else they celebrate if they can't get home for Christmas, if they're not welcome, or they don't have anywhere to go.

Graves teaches the Shadows how to cook on a grill or to change tires- whatever their fathers may not have taught them.

Graves (under one of the Shadows' cars.): "Yeah, kid, this baby needs an oil change and your tires are gettin' a little low. I'll change it for you. Get me my tools, yeah?"

Adding to that, he plays football with his boys on summer and fall days that they have off.

In professional football season, he pretends not to see his Shadows listening to the games on radio, and sometimes will watch over their shoulders if they're on leave and the game is on. Avid user of swearing during bad plays.

Hates Ghost. Thinks his mask is stupid.

Very heavy sleeper. Snores loud enough to be heard outside of his door.

Can't handle spice.

Horrific Spanish. His Shadows with Mexican or general Hispanic roots try to help him but he still pronounces things horribly wrong. It makes them cringe and give up.

Incredibly Southern. Says things like "you're sweatin' like a sinner in church, you alright?" Or "bless your heart."

Graves probably owns three different aprons. Has one that says "kiss the cook" and once when everyone was really drunk, a couple of the Shadows gave him kisses on the cheek as he gave them food. He thinks about it every night before bed.

Thinks he's the scary one. Sometimes he is. But mostly his gigantic Shadows that stand behind him whenever he goes to meet with a client.

Has a little stash of candy he'll sometimes give to a Shadow who's having a bad day, telling that Shadow that it's from one of the staff on base.

Graves has bad experiences with commandeering commanding officers, so when they're not around other people, the Shadows either call him Graves or Phil.

Graves is spectacular at beerpong. Can beat every single Shadow in the Company.

If you'd like more, I have more!!

[thedomesticanthropologist]

The BG3 characters on Tiktok

Wyll: has 2 accounts. One is for fitness, dancercize, calisthenics, and a little bit posing while flexing. The other is an unhinged BookTok account where he cosplays and acts out romance scenes with himself, stitches cosplay character actors with himself. Dramatic poetry, songs, reenacting Broadway play moments. Responds to every comment.

I would also accept a children's entertainment performer type account from him.

Shadowheart: Silent poses while staring down the camera. Almost every video is the same, but they all pop off in popularity saying she looks mysterious and beautiful. She uses the camera to do her eyeliner and outfit checks. No editing, always short videos, never replies in the comments. Manages to get makeup 💄 deals and free outfits sent to her all the time. Puts in mimal effort

Karlach: someone else films her just being herself. She has several viral videos. Sometimes she plans them, like seeing how much cereal she can eat in one sitting or if she can punch down an old shed she found without using any tools. Captions are usually just some version of a meysmash or one word in all capital letters.

Astarion: Influencer that got all his followers by gossiping and sniping at other influencers in their comment sections or making call-out posts but if they're unpopular he turns off comments or deletes them and pretends he didn't do anything. Posts thirst traps that would be extremely cringe but people fall for it because he's pretty. Never does "getting ready" videos without having already gotten ready off camera and faking that his hair is just naturally Like That. Ends up with a niche fan base that is extremely feral for him and he uses them to target other accounts and harass people who annoy him. Or when he's bored.

Laezel: her entire account is just clips the Shadowheart takes of her mispronouncing words or being irritable. She gains a surprising amount of followers. There starts to be an underground plot to figure out if shafowheart and laezel live together, with fans pointing out background items that match. Neither of them address it directly.

Halsin: it... it's a nature channel. Camera is set up on a log or something at a bad angle and he either whittles in silence for 15 minutes and then shows u a duck, or the camera is in his hands shaking and being fumbled regularly with his thumb half over the mic and the view isn't always in focus but you're pretty sure he's telling you about the symbiotic relationship of moss on a tree. Most of his comment section is people asking him to take his shirt off.

Gale: his tiktok would be exactly what is VA's tiktok already is probably honestly ajsdgjdhdhjg. But OK, so he would absolutely wear velvet outfits and spend 30+ minutes describing one book at a time per video feom his giant library. Sometimes does wine reviews, or cheese reviews. Mixed in is short videos of Tara snoring or her paws twitching in her sleep.