#soft men in love

[talktonytome]

They’re sprawled in the bed of Tommy’s pick-up under the desert night sky. There are millions of stars twinkling down on them, and it makes Buck feel both infinitely small and a part of something big at the same time. He makes out some constellations, easily spotting the Big and Little Dipper, but surprisingly doesn’t have many others stored in his mental catalogue of information.

As if he can sense what he’s thinking, Tommy turns to him. His profile in the moonlight is breathtaking. He guides Buck to sit up with his back against Tommy’s chest and pulls the blanket he brought snug around them.

“Are you familiar with the Andromeda and Perseus constellations?” He asks softly, breath tickling Buck’s ear.

“Not really,” Buck admits. He’s used to being the one with all the facts, but he loves learning, especially from Tommy. “Tell me about them?” He leans his head on Tommy’s shoulder, feels the rise and fall of his breathing as he waits for him to start.

“See that horizontal ‘V’ and to the left of it, a scraggly, almost sideways ‘M’?”

Buck takes a few seconds to scan his eyes across the sky, concentrating on the brightest points, but they honestly blur together. “Um, I’m not sure, to be honest,” he says. He doesn’t feel self-conscious though. Tommy never makes him feel like that.

“Here,” Tommy says grabbing Buck’s right hand. “Let me show you,” he brings their hands up and uses Buck’s pointer finger to start tracing the first constellation. He stops at the first bright dot, of what Buck now realizes, is the sideways ‘M’ Tommy was talking about.

“This is Perseus,” Tommy explains quietly, moving his finger to the next point and then the next. “According to myth, he rescued the beautiful Andromeda from Cetus.”

“The sea monster!” Buck exclaims excitedly. “I know that one.”

Tommy chuckles, not offended at the interruption, already long-used to Buck’s random interjections. “That’s right,” he nods, smiling. He continues tracing down the middle slope of the constellation and back up to the last one. “He found her chained, as a sacrifice to Poseidon and immediately fell in love with her.”

“Wow,” Buck breathes as Tommy stops at the last end point of Perseus. “It’s beautiful.”

“Y-yeah,” Tommy says, breath catching. Buck feels Tommy’s eyes on him, and his cheeks and chest flood with warmth.

“And this one,” he moves over to the ‘V’ laying down on its side, to the right of it, “is Andromeda.” Buck hums, lulled by the deep, soothing timbre of Tommy’s voice.

Tommy continues in the same vein, tracing from the top of the first point down to the valley of the V. “Her mother was Cassiopeia, a vain queen who boasted of Andromeda’s beauty, which angered the sea nymphs, who took matters to Poseidon,” he says. “Poseidon unleashed Cetus to ravage the coast of their kingdom until finally King Cepheus went to Zeus, who suggested they sacrifice Andromeda to appease Poseidon.”

“And that’s how she ended up chained, until Perseus found her.” Tommy finishes as they arrive at the last star, the second high point of the V.

Buck realizes that it looks like an arm reaching out to the last leg of the Perseus, two lovers forever reaching out to one another. For a moment, he imagines it’s him and Tommy, immortalized in the sky, and it feels like his heart is too big for his chest.

He clears his throat, and blinks back the tears threatening to roll down his cheek. If Tommy notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Thank you for telling me about them,” he says sincerely.

“Of course, anytime,” Tommy replies easily. “You know I love teaching you things.”

“I think they may be my favorite constellations now,” Buck declares. “Not that I knew many before, but,” he shrugs. Tommy gets it, if his soft smile is anything to go by.

He twists so he’s facing Tommy more fully now and asks, “So how come you know so much about constellations? Were you an astronomy club nerd?” He teases lightly, letting Tommy take an out if he needs to.

“Uh no, actually,” Tommy rubs his thumb across the knuckles of Buck’s hand, still grasped in his own. “When I was in the army, I spent a lot of dark nights in the desert and there wasn’t much to do when we weren’t, you know,” he swallows.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” Buck assures him. Tommy doesn’t talk a lot about his time in the army, he knows there are a lot of painful memories, and he never wants to press.

“I’m okay, but thank you,” Tommy lifts their joined hands to kiss Buck’s palm.

“So, I taught myself constellations and planets to pass the time, read the myths, and when I flew, I felt so close to them- almost like I could reach out and touch them, and it made me forget all the bad, at least for a while.”

Buck tucks aways this new piece of information, for safekeeping, like he does with every new little thing he learns about him. He gently sets it in the bright room of his mind labeled ‘Tommy’, sees it peeking out at him from the window.

“Thank you for telling me,” Buck says, a softer echo of his earlier words. He knows how precious this is, the weight Tommy’s letting him hold in his hands.

Tommy only smiles and leans in to kiss his cheek, then moves Buck to settle against him once more.

[pollyna]

comical au where Ice asks Mav to marry him (and then Mav asks Ice), and with the proposal comes the ring (made of gold and with the sentence “you can be my wingman anytime” incised on the inside), and Mav wears him at home or when they aren’t in their uniforms.

Until one morning where Mav is too sleepy to report too early even for his standards, and he has to leave a sleepy Ice in their bed—still asleep and hugging Mav's pillow because Mav isn't there anymore—and he forgets to take off his ring.

By 7:30 am, the scuttlebutt wants that Pete Maverick Mitchell got married last night and the possibility of whomever is married going from one side of the ocean (where Admiral Benjamin's stationed at that moment) to the other (some babe he met in his last deployment in Japan).

By 10 am, when he is finally getting home because it's Saturday for fuck's sakes, Ice is still sleepy but more awake and sipping coffee at their kitchen table.

“I heard congratulations are in order,” he says, trying to hide his smile behind the cup.

Mav can't help but stare back at the man like he's growing a third head. “For what?”

“Apparently you got married last night, and now everybody is betting on who the happy bride is.” He adds, looking at Mav's left hand.

“Oh,” the man himself answered, “well, you would have looked rather dashing in a white dress if how you were wearing your uniform was any indication of it.”

Ice's blushing is barely perceptible if one doesn't know where to look, but Mav does, and he finds himself standing in front of his fitted figure.

“I'm going to kiss Msr. Mitchell, good morning because I was up at a horrible hour, and I missed you,” he says, taking Ice's face between his hands.

“It's Msr. Kazansky-Mitchell for you,” Ice corrects him before letting Mav kiss him.

“I can live with that,” they found themselves cackling, Ice’s head against Mav’s chest while they hugged.

(Years later, after the DADT repeal, it stays an inside joke between the two of them even when Kazansky-Mitchell is written on every document existing—from the marriage certificate to the door of Ice’s studio to Mav’s dog tags to their bills. It never loses the funny edge.)

[miri-draws]

I've been grunklepilled.

[3mmiegirl]

Video of waving titties back and forth please?

low quality and hopefully this is what you wanted 🤍

i’ve never taken a video like this so this is so embarrassing 😳 enjoy it while it remains up because i’ll probably delete it when i come to my senses

[literarymerritt]

Thinking about Them 🥺

Art Tumblr | Twitter

[von2dutch]

[gentlekalita]

Me and who?

[lovelyscourge]

Having thoughts about a pretty boy sitting between my legs. His back resting against my chest as my fingertips gently trace his neck and jaw; my other hand is busy teasing his waistband, threatening to slide inside his boxers.

I can feel his cock hardening and hear his cute whimpers as he tumbles his head onto my shoulder, engulfed by bliss. You're so pretty, little dove.

Maybe he'll bite my neck a bit and plant hickeys here and there — he wants to hear me as well —. I want to press his neck, just slightly, then move my hand down to his nipple, rubbing it gently to send a jolt of pleasure through him.

I can feel his cock throbbing and twitching for me, straining against his underwear — already stained with his pre cum, he's so wet — and how putty he is in my hands. A pliable sweet thing.

You don't have to think right now, honey. Let mommy take care of you, shh.

Doesn't it feel good? The way my fingers touch your cock with just the right pressure? Stroking it as I push two fingers into your lovely mouth to muffle your moans and satiate your oral fixation.

You just have to be filled one way or another, don't you? Go on, darling, suck.

You've done everything so well, my pretty boy, Mhm, you. You're a very good boy.

Cum for me, little dove. <3

[actually-mentally-ill]

[meltingfin1]

Look how stunning he is, my jaw literally dropped

Gif Credit Pinterest - Kimimiki

[homeforclones]

The difference between Season 1 and Season 3 of the Bad Batch

Season 1: Omega: Crosshair, can I have a hug? Crosshair: The audacity??? Of this Child??? Nothing would revolt me more than to show any kind of weakness to sate your neediness. Season 3: Omega: Crosshair, you're getting a hug. Crosshair: The charity??? Of my Sister??? Nothing would give me more joy than to be hugged by the Literal Angel that you are, though I am a lowly worm.

[pollyna]

One little routine they take with them since post-86 is having massage oil around, generally something with a not too strong sent, because Ice likes to rub Mav's hands after a long day behind the cockpit.

They soon found the best position to indulge in this little ritual of theirs is with Mav resting against Ice's chest, both of them already in bed and comfortable to the point that, if one or both of them fall asleep, their backs won't hurt when they wake up all tangled together.

(It's not a one way street because Mav loves to spend hours massaging Ice's wrists even if he didn't write a single word all day.)

[fqntasies]

Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.

words: 1,258

disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.

You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.

"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.

The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.

---- flashback ----------

The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.

But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.

"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.

You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.

At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.

When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.

But then-

Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.

She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.

She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.

Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...

--------------------------------

You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.

He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.

"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.

His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.

The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.

Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.

"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.

Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.

He wets his lips, gaze feverish.

"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.

You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.

There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.

You know he has to leave.

[theereina]

BLACK LOVE

[3mmiegirl]

another midshift tiddy picture brought to you by your favorite barista

[von2dutch]

BLACK LOVE