#though i also have never seen his penis so it is possible...

[iamindifferenttolamp]

The thing about growing up ace and in a household that didn't talk about taboo things like sex means I had no clue how sexual attraction actually worked

I really believed it was something that had an on/off switch (I don't know why they're treating it like satire, that guy in Book of Mormon is totally right, just Turn It Off...) and obviously I, a good Christian (lmao), was keeping that shit turned Off

And because I was brought up in a world that both said Sex Is A Sin and also Sometimes People Just Can't Help It, that left me super worried that if I ever for any reason let that switch get flipped to On, then I could end up in lust with literally anyone

Like, I have a brother who is a man with a body so if sexual attraction means finding men attractive what if I sexually attraction at my own brother. Like, he's a man, other men are men, what's the difference? How would my body know that that man is not only the list of acceptable targets?

(this may also tie in somehow with the later realization that I not only didn't know anything about sexual attraction, I also had [have] no clue wtf gender is, but that's not important right now)

Anyway that's how I spent some of my teen years absolutely terrified of somehow accidentally seeing my brother naked because in my ace mind the only logical course of events for these allo freaks doing sex everywhere was that seeing a penis = instant incurable horniness

I'm sure this abstinence-only topic-avoidance upbringing has had no lasting negative effects on my psyche

[starsforxavi]

unexpected visit ⁘ sylus

·······•✦ description: In which: Your unexpected visit to Sylus' penthouse reveals a side of him you never knew, a side that he wished to always keep hidden because he was a monster. At least, that's what he told himself. But you never thought of him that way, and you want to prove it.

·······•✦ pairing: dragon!sylus x afab!reader ·······•✦ word count: 3.1k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Walking In On Someone, Dragon!Sylus, Well more like Hybrid, Mentions of his lore, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Horns, Grinding, Cowgirl Position, Missionary Position, Voice Kink, Praise Kink, Words of Affirmation, Horns as Handlebars, Mentions of Aftercare, Creampie, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, POV Second Person, No use of y/n

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

You never thought it would be possible to sneak up on the famed Onychinus boss… His guard was completely down, back turned to the doorway as you pushed it open with a slow hand. His scales glittered a beautiful black with an undertone of red under the lights of his bedr-

Scales? 

The gasp you let out alerted Sylus, and then you caught sight of his blazing red eyes. They seemed brighter than normal, matching the intense red crackling beneath the surface of the black scales. It was only but a moment that you saw the adornments along his spine before his bare chest was in your vision.

You had seen him shirtless many times, touched along the warm skin from above and below, but the way your jaw dropped slightly sent a shiver through Sylus’ spine. A hint of fear edged into his vision, his throat bobbling with unspoken words. 

It took only a quick clear of his throat for him to steel his expression, lips curling into a smirk. Though the look in his eyes gave away the hint of nervousness. He could hide himself again, but it was painful. Retracting his scales and horns took energy, something he had learned how to do over millennia. 

“I didn’t-” he cleared his throat again, legs carrying him until he was almost right in front of you, “expect you this early, sweetie.” His words stuttered slightly, the divet between his pecs throbbing slightly. Even though he didn’t want to remember, his body remembered…

“I was eager to see you.” The smile on your face was genuine, eyes sparkling under the dim light of his bedroom. “I am eager to see you.” There was a beat of silence, and then you danced your fingers up his arm, wrapping it around his neck. “Do you want to tell me?” 

The softness conveyed everything you needed to say. It’s okay if you don’t want to say anything. Your eyes gazed into his, seeing the raging inferno calm into a gentle bonfire. There was no fear in your irises, only the love that you had harbored for so long. 

“It’s just…” He sighed, his eyes flickering down to your lips as he gripped your waist. His touch seared into your skin, and you swore you could see his silver hair twisting into tiny horns. “I’m a monster, sweetie. I have horns and scales. It’s a sight for sore eyes.” 

“Can I see them?” Ignoring his words to tear himself down, you ran your fingers through his hair. The unmistakable hitch in his breath gave him away. “The horns… And the scales.” 

The tips of your fingers danced between his shoulder blades, edging along a hard shell almost as if you were touching bone. It was interesting, the way the hardness seemed soft in its own way. Armor guarding him from harm. 

There was a hesitation in his eyes, his smirk still plastered on his face. The chuckle he let out was soft, and in the small space between you, his warmth wrapped around you. He trusted you with every ounce of his soul, but he also knew how others looked at him. You, however, weren’t like the others. You never were.

“Are you sure?” He sighed, eyes closing as your fingers delivered a gentle massage to his shoulders. The reminders of the wings he once had, the freedom he experienced kissing the mountaintops with you in his arms… He missed it. “Once you see me like that, you can’t go back.” 

With a chuckle, you brought him down to press a kiss to his lips. It was chaste, your mouths slotting together perfectly before you pulled away just enough to speak. With your nose brushing his, you smiled. 

“I’ll love you in every form.” The hand on the back of his neck moved to his jaw, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. “I fell in love with your soul. Your looks are just a bonus.” 

A true laugh burst out from his chest, eyes crinkling shut for a moment. His hands settled on your hips, his grip tight as if he didn’t want to let you go. It was impossible to let you go. To let you go would be to lose a part of himself. His heart soared at your words, knowing you felt the same connection. You remembered the same connection. Even if your brain didn’t, your heart did. 

“Well, I’m glad you at least like my looks.” The smile faded just a bit, his eyes flickering between yours before capturing your lips in another kiss. That one was more intense than the last but not overwhelming. His deep breaths filled his lungs, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you closer. 

When he parted, he kissed the edges of your lips, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’ve already seen my back. I guess it’s time for you to see it all.”

Stepping back, there was a silence as he turned away from you. The scales were the same black color, with a soft glisten under the light. Beneath them, a light red glow had the skin around it bathed in a hue. 

Then, those same scales spread across his wide shoulders. It was like a suit of armor settling on his body, the outline intriguing and beautiful at the same time. They went down his arms but stopped at his fingers. 

Before you could ask if he had claws, you gasped as you looked up at him. Very noticeable dark horns sprouted up from his silver hair. It framed his face, and you knew to others it would be scary, but you were excited. Yes, he was different, but he was still the attractive Sylus you met and fell for. 

“So, do you think I’m a mon- mmph!”

You cut off his question with a kiss. It was desire-filled and desperate, wanting to assure him that you loved him. You still wanted him, even after seeing that. As if it were an ultimatum. Your steps pushed him back until he hit the bed, sitting down. 

“Sit against the headboard.” You said, watching as he settled on the sheets. The grey sweatpants were low on his hips, giving you a peek at the small trail of hair from his navel. His hair was disheveled, and his chest was flushed dark. 

Wide eyes watched you strip down to your underwear, climbing onto the bed and situating yourself in his lap. You wanted him, but you also wanted to make sure he knew how much you loved him. 

“Can I touch you?” Your hands hovered over his arms, feeling heat radiating from the dark adornments. 

“Yes, please.” It was a whisper of a response, his eyes locked onto your face. Oh, how he itched to read your expression. He was normally so in tune with your body, but the way you gazed at his horns and the scales, he wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry. 

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, and heat immediately seared into your skin. He was hot, in the literal sense, but it didn’t hurt. If anything, it only added to the intensity of the warmth inside you—a fire that burned eternally, only stoked by the raging heat from your lover beneath you. 

“Sweetie,” He started, his muscles flexing as you traced the line of scales. They were surprisingly nice to touch, gliding along each one until you reached his shoulders. It was reminiscent of wings, and while you wanted to prod more with questions, you settled on silence. “I need you.” 

“You’re not a monster, Sylus.” His statement caused your hips to stutter against his, the bulge pressing against your core only covered by your panties. The silver hair was soft under your fingers, and you massaged his scalp until you touched the hard, bone-like horns. 

His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he fought back a groan. The grip he had on your hips tightened, pinky fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. He was desperate, but he also wanted to let you speak. 

“Sensitive?” You teased, wrapping your hand around one of his horns. It was a lewd image, one that had your body trembling. A small surge of electricity shot through you, and you leaned down, your clothed breasts flattening against him. He could feel your hard nipples through the padding, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Y-” he swallowed again, his ears flushing deeper red as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Yes…” 

Another groan - louder and slightly higher pitched - fell from his lips, eyes closing. If it weren’t for the hold on his horn, his head would have his the wall behind him. But you held on, tightening your grip. To see him so vulnerable, so pliant under your hands as he bared his soul to you…

Your lips found his in a messy kiss, head tilting to deepen it. Tongues danced to their own rhythm, and your hips did the same. Grinding down on his lap, then nipping at his bottom lip… It was an art to the way you kissed him. It all came naturally, as if you had been doing it for centuries. 

A hand pushed down Sylus’ sweatpants, freeing his leaking cock that had already dampened the fabric. That own hand also moved your panties to the side, exposing your soaked pussy to the cool air. Sylus groaned into your mouth, guiding his tip along your folds. 

Your whimper was caught in his throat, knees pushing you up until his head was nestled right inside your entrance. The stretch was delicious already, feeling yourself accommodate his thickness. With a hand on his horn and the other on the warm scales of his shoulder, you let yourself sink down. 

Both of you moaned at the intensity, his hips sitting flush against yours. His cock twitched with each slow graze of his scales or horns, fingers threading through his hair and dancing between the dark protrusions. 

“I love you so much, beautiful.” He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. It wasn’t just a statement for the moment, the way his cock buried so deep inside you, tightening around him with each pulse of your pussy. The statement was meant for every single moment for the rest of his life. 

“I love you too, Sylus.” Your hips shifted, body stuttering as his cock pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. “So much… So, so much.” 

Each movement sent shocks running through both of you. With your hands anchored on his shoulders, the thick vein of his cock dragged along your walls as you rode him. It was slow and intimate, eyes locked on each other. 

Questions popped up, but were immediately wiped away with the desperate rutting on his cock. That could wait until you were finished. Literally. Now, all you needed was Sylus to know how much you loved him. 

“You’re so - ah - hot,” you whined, bouncing faster on him. Each time you clenched your pussy around his cock, his hips bucked, pushing himself deeper and deeper. He was uncontrollable, like he was in heat and just needing release. “You’re still, fuck, Sylus.”

Just Sylus… 

He was just Sylus.

Sylus’ hands pressed against your back, holding you closer to him. With his feet planted on the bed, he turned onto his side and then, eventually, let you rest comfortably against the sheets. His body enveloped yours, cock still nestled inside you.

With the new position, he struggled to get rid of his sweatpants, eventually taking them off and throwing them to the side. His hands held your waist with a tender touch, his eyes roaming over your body before settling on your face. When he spoke again, it was with a gentle voice. 

“Panties off?” That would mean he would have to pull out, and while he was desperate to stay buried inside your tight heat, he would do whatever you asked. 

“Just fuck me, Sylus.” As soon as he leaned down to capture your lips, you ran a hand through his hair, gliding your fingers along his horn while the other pressed between his shoulder blades. 

It was like his spine was stronger, harder beneath your fingertips. You wondered what it would be like to give him a massage, touching along every small scale that decorated the wide expanse of his back. 

Sylus’ hips continued their slow rolls, teasing you with just enough to have cut-up moans echoing from your lips while not enough to bring you one step closer to ecstasy. In truth, Sylus loved hearing your voice; the poetic way you strung together your words sounded like a symphony to him every time. 

“Keep talking,” he said, the sentence halfway between a command and a plea. His whole body was hot, molten lava bubbling in his chest, and he could almost feel the pulsing of the ruby that was once laid between his pecs. 

“Fuck, o-okay,” swallowing the lump in your throst, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Low whimpers came each time he touched a new part of your body. 

“I love the - hhng - way you t-tou-ch me.” his left hand gripped your breast, thumb flicking your nipple. 

Despite the bursts of pleasure, you continued. “Love your - ah - horns… How - fuck - sens-itive you ah are,” you could barely keep your eyes open, your pupils halfway obscured by your eyelashes. 

Sylus picked up his pace, his right hand pressing against your lower abdomen. He could feel each thrust of his cock, his tip kissing his palm. The only wall between the two is the flesh of your stomach. 

“Keep - ah fuck - going,” Sylus breathed out, leaning his body down so he could press a kiss to your lips. You were irresistible to him. He would never get tired of seeing you, hearing you, feeling you, tasting you. 

“You- are- not- a- monster-” each of your words was cut off with a moan, his hips clapping against yours. Your breath mingled with his, noses brushing together as you stared into each other’s eyes. 

His eyes were the windows to his soul, which was yours. Everything of his was yours. Every material thing, every emotional thing, every spiritual thing. Anything that had his name on it was also yours. No question. 

“Your eyes are—ah—gorgeous,” it was a ghost of a whisper, your lips finding his in a clash of tongue and teeth. The kiss wasn’t even an actual kiss, just a desperate attempt to get even closer to one another. 

His cock throbbed, twitching inside you with each compliment that came from your heart. You meant every word… You knew that. Sylus knew that. He gave you his everything, and you did the same in return. Though he would never ask anything of you.

Sylus was content being alone, knowing he would never find you again, but fate has a way of reconnecting two lost souls. Just as you did before, you thundered your way into his life, showing him his true purpose. 

He felt it in every tender love-making session in bed, and the feral fucking that happened in bathrooms or his car. There was love in fucking and there was also carnal desire in affection. You were the balances that forced the other to a happy medium. Two sides of the same coin and owners of each others’ soul. 

“You’re gorgeous.” He panted, thumb finding your clit and rubbing quick circles. “So- so- gorgeous.” As you tightened around him, his hips stuttered, the heat surrounding him and filling every ounce of his being becoming too much. 

Your hips bucked up to meet his, finding the right amount of friction as he repeated the word gorgeous against your lips. He would never miss the chance to shower you in compliments, making sure you knew just how perfect you were. 

“Is my pretty girl gonna - ha - cum for me?” The hand not stroking your clit held the back of your neck, his lips slotting perfectly against yours. 

He knew you were getting close. He was more attuned to your body than anything else. Your rhythm, your touch, every bump and dip in your skin. If all his senses were taken away from him, he would still be able to feel your presence. His soul was at peace when you were around. 

“Yes, fuck… Yes.” You panted, eyes threatening to close. Each time you blinked slowly, he pinched your clit, pulling whine after whine from your lips. “God, Sylus.” 

“Say my name, pretty girl.” He purred, his eyes locked on yours as he pistoned his cock right against your sweet spot. Stars danced behind your eyes, jaw stuck open in a perpetual moan that was stuttered with each thrust. 

“Sy- ah- Sylus!” 

Your high crashed over you before you could say anything else, legs locking around his waist. Each wave of pleasure caused your pussy to pulse around him, coaxing him further and further until barely seconds after you came, he was slowing down. 

His cock twitched, shooting load after load inside you until his body slowly lost strength. The muscles in his back and legs tensed, and he lowered himself until he was laying completely on top of you. 

At the awkward angle, you felt him slip out of you, a small trickle of his release dripping from your hole. His chest pressed against yours, face nuzzling into your neck as he breathed in gentle sighs. He made sure not to hurt you with the horns, feeling them press against the headboard behind you. 

“I love you, Sy.” You whispered to him, letting his lips carve a path along your shoulder and neck. His legs were intertwined with yours, hands tapping up and down your torso.

“I love you too, beautiful.” The mumbled words fan across your skin, bringing a smile to your face as you carded your fingers through his silver hair. “Thank you…” He started, closing his eyes. “For not viewing me as a monster.” 

You didn’t remember the past, the heartache he faced, and the light you brought into his life. His light was back. The person who taught him how to be, how to love, and how to lose. 

“You will never be a monster to me.” You leaned down enough to press a kiss to his forehead. “I will always love you, no matter what.” 

There was a beat of silence as you listened to each other’s hearts and the way they complemented each other, the way they completed each other. 

“Now, can we clean up?” You chuckled, running your hand up and down the scales of his spine. “As much as I love feeling these,” the touch on his spine is light, “I really don't want to ruin the sheets with your cum and wake up with sticky thighs.”

Sylus laughed again, a loud laugh that rumbled through his chest and had your heart soaring through the clouds. Sitting up on his elbows, he looked down at you, eyes glowing red with adoration and pure love. 

“Let’s clean up then, beautiful.” 

© starsforxavi

[sourwulf]

stiles comes to you after his female anatomy class and asks you to help. he says he’s never even watched torn so has never even seen a vagina, but yours is the first one he winds up seeing and eating out

༄  word count  —  2.3k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  none

⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity

☼  a/n— i have... severely neglected this blog

✎  masterlist

─

you were sitting on your couch watching tv, a root beer flavored sucker between your lips. you were channel surfing, nothing catching your eye. your front door opened unannounced, making your head whip towards it.

after it closed, the familiar face of stiles poked around the corner.

you sighed, glad it wasn't an intruder.

"hey," you greeted. "ever heard of knocking?"

"sorry, it's raining and the door was unlocked. i figured you wouldn't mind."

he kicked his shoes off and walked over to sit next to you, mimicking your position by crossing his arms.

"what flavor is that?" he asked, looking at the stick in your mouth.

"root beer."

"nice."

"so what's up?"

"i was hoping you could help me study."

"as long as it's not math."

"honestly, i kinda wish it was."

"why? what is it?"

"so... it's for my health class. we're doing a human anatomy course for the sex ed unit."

"and you need my help... why?"

"well... it's female anatomy." you raised your eyebrows. "you're the only person i'm comfortable with asking for help on this."

you just looked at him for a second before taking in a deep breath and turning off the tv.

"alright, fine."

within a couple of minutes you were both upstairs on your bed. you sat against your headboard, him laying on his side horizontal across the bed with his assignment in front of him.

so far, it was just multiple choice and fill in the blank questions. he was reading them out, getting your answers.

"what do the ovaries do?" he asked, a diagram of the uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes above the questions, with lines to label each.

"make hormones and contain eggs."

he skimmed the answers, finding the one that fit that description the best.

once he finished that chart, he flipped the page to see a very detailed diagram of a vagina, also with lines pointing to specific parts of it for him to label.

he looked at it for a moment, as if he was really studying it.

"vulva."

"i'm pretty sure that's just an all-inclusive word to include everything."

he circled the right answer

"what is the... clitoris? did i say that right?"

hearing stiles say the word 'clitoris' was a bit weird, but to be fair most people don't really say the full word.

"are you really asking me what the clit is?"

"yeah, what is it?"

you looked at him slightly in disbelief, chuckling a bit.

"come on, stiles."

"what?"

you were dumbfounded. everyone knows what the clit is.

"you've never even heard the word?"

"i've heard of it, i just don't know what it is."

"it's kind of obvious if you're looking at a vagina."

he shrugged. "never seen one. well, other than this drawing."

now this left you stunned. never seen a vagina? how was it possible for a teenage boy to never have seen one?

"you've watched porn, though."

he shook his head. "nope."

somehow he continued to shock you more with every sentence.

"never?"

"never."

"stiles, you're a teenage boy, and you're telling me you've never watched porn?"

"never needed to."

"the clitoris is... it's like a little bud above the vaginal opening. it's full of nerve endings and it's really only there for pleasure purposes."

"huh. interesting. can i ask you a question?"

"shoot."

"does every vagina look like this?"

"what do you mean?"

"like... are they all identical?"

"uh... no. every vagina is different. just like every penis is different. some of them are dangly, some are hairy, it just depends on the person."

"does yours look like this?"

your eyebrows dipped.

"did you really just ask me that?"

"i thought i was allowed to ask questions."

"yeah, general questions."

"that is a general question."

you sighed. "similar. but not really. i mean, they all have the same basic parts. but the anatomy is different sometimes."

he nodded. "wish i could see a real one up close."

it was kind of funny, how he was talking about vaginas like a specimen he could study.

"you will someday." he made eye contact with you and raised his eyebrows slightly. "stiles. you're not implying what i think you are, are you?"

"i mean... i'm not gonna say no."

"i'm not showing you my vagina!"

"that's not what i was asking, pervert," he said in an unconvincing tone.

to be completely honest, you weren't completely against the idea. the best way to learn was to see the real thing, not just a drawing.

you sighed. "fine." his eyes lit up a bit. "on one condition."

"mm?"

"no touching. only looking."

he nodded.

"sounds fair to me."

you could not believe you were fully exposing yourself to him right now, your vagina just out. your upper body was propped up on your pillows, your knees bent and thighs spread with his eyes glued to you.

"and no judging my lack of shaving."

he shrugged. "doesn't bother me."

he was looking at you like it was a book and he was reading every word.

"this is kinda weird, right?" you asked, trying to break the tension. and trying to distract him from the fact that his gaze was causing you to grow wetter and wetter with every second.

"a little bit, yeah."

"so... my vagina is the first one you've ever seen."

"yep. looks pretty similar to the drawing."

a few seconds of heavy silence went by.

"i mean... it's hard to learn when you're not... hands-on." you mentally slapped yourself for how cringey that sounded.

he froze, looking up into your eyes.

"what?"

"yeah, i mean... how are you supposed to learn what the clitoris is if you don't get to see what it does?"

"oh. i don't- i don't know."

"exactly."

"but you said no touching."

"i know what i said. maybe sometimes it's good to... break rules."

he slowly crawled closer to you and you spread your thighs wider. the cold air against your wetness could've given you chills.

"what... what do i do?" he asked, his face only a couple of inches away.

"see if you can find the words on your paper."

he looked over at it. "labia."

he lightly poked your wet lips — not the ones on your face.

"good."

"was that it?"

"mhm. good job."

"clitoris," he said without looking back at the paper.

"you remembered that one."

he looked around for a second before, without warning, placing the pad of his pointer finger onto your clit, making you take in a deep breath.

"that?"

"yep. right again."

"what do you... do with it?"

it was uncomfortable to explain, especially with a face in your vagina and a finger on your clit.

"uh... lots of things. really it's just different ways of touching it and touching it with different things. so, you could go in circles, back and forth, up and down. you can also use your tongue or some kind of toy. it's another thing that just depends on the person, everyone likes different things."

"what do you like?"

"circles, usually."

with a second of hesitation, he began slowly moving that finger in circles. you let out a breathy moan and closed your eyes, but he stopped.

"was that okay?"

you opened your eyes and looked down at him.

"that was good."

"so... what happens? is there like... an end goal here?"

"orgasm. it's how most women have to get there. sex, like penetration, usually isn't enough to get a lot of us there."

"really?"

"yeah. that's why it's important for our partners to do something other than just regular sex."

"so... do you usually prefer fingers or... a tongue?"

"well... me personally, i usually prefer a tongue. i feel like it's just more intimate."

"and what do you do with the tongue?"

"same thing you would with fingers. circles, back and forth, up and down-"

you were interrupted by a warm tongue on your clit, unable to hold in a gasp. he was going in circles like you said to do, and it was like he knew what to do immediately.

it felt good. you looked down at him to see him returning the gaze, a smirk creeping across his face.

"good, just like that, stiles."

you were doing your darndest to keep your hips still, ensuring he did everything right his first time. he placed his hands atop your thighs, making sure they stayed spread.

you reached up and pushed your hair out of your face, fisting a ball of your own hair. you were moaning, which he wasn't expecting to hear the first time he did this.

"you're doing good, stiles. that feels good."

he didn't answer, but his ego grew a few sizes at that. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more he had to hold you still. his arms were now wrapped around your thighs, his hands flat against your belly.

"fuck, okay, i can feel it coming," you said, looking down at him. "keep going, i'm gonna cum."

when you did look at him, it looked like he was experienced in this. his positioning, his hands, his pace, everything screamed 'i've done this a thousand times before'.

he liked this. being able to make you melt with just his tongue was making him hard, but he couldn't help it. your sweet voice moaning his name was like music to his ears, and the closer you got the louder you became.

your fingers tangled in his hair, trying not to pull too hard.

"don't stop, stiles. i'm almost there. i'll tell you when to stop."

he obeyed, not changing a single thing he was doing. if it hadn't have been so obvious, he might not have known you were cumming.

your back arched sharply, you took in a loud gasp, and your legs were trembling.

this was an incredible orgasm. you were perplexed by his skill, as ten minutes ago he had never even laid eyes on a vagina, much less eaten one out. but he was a quick learner, as you'd figured out from all the werewolf stuff.

"alright, stop, stop," you choked out. he immediately pulled away, using his shirt to wipe his mouth. you closed your legs and reveled in your high. your hand covered your eyes and you struggled to catch your breath.

"was that okay?" he asked innocently.

"are you kidding?" a moment later, you propped yourself up on your elbows. "how did you know how to do that?"

he shrugged. "i just did what you described."

"i've had more than one guy go down on me who was experienced and couldn't make me cum at all. that was, what, two minutes?"

"i guess i'm a natural," he joked.

you tilted your head to the side. "c'mere." you spread your legs again and his eyes widened, slowly following your directions. he held himself above you and you pulled him down to kiss you.

your hand trailed down his chest and landed on his belt, the clanking of the buckle making him pull away.

"what're you doing?" he whispered, looking at your half-closed eyes.

"well... i can see you're rock hard. i just figured, if you're losing your oral virginity, you might as well lose the regular one too."

he gulped hard, not moving.

"oh."

you stopped messing with his belt, furrowing your brow.

"unless you don't want to. you don't have to. don't feel like i'm pressuring you."

he shook his head.

"i don't. it's just... i didn't expect this. i wasn't planning on doing that when i came over, and i definitely didn't expect this. i didn't bring a condom or anything."

"i have some." you reached down and cupped his bulge in your hand, which made him falter a bit. "they might be a bit snug, but they'll fit."

he nodded, and you continued unbuckling his belt. when you got his pants shimmied down a bit and he was exposed to you, you noticed how red his cheeks were.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing. just... i don't want to disappoint you."

"stiles, it's your first time. i'm not expecting you to last past the first thrust." you can tell he took that as an insult. "i didn't mean it like that. no guy lasts past the first thrust during their first time. vaginas are different than hands or socks. i want you to feel comfortable with this. i promise i'm not judging you."

he nodded. "okay."

"if you don't want to have sex yet i could always just blow you instead. you might last longer that way."

"no, i want to do this."

"okay."

you reached over and grabbed a condom out of your nightstand drawer and opened it for him.

"want me to put it on for you?" you asked, to which you received a nod.

the feeling of your hand stroking down on him could've made him cum right then and there. but he wanted to wait until he was at least inside of you.

the feeling of his tip pressing into you was magical for both of you, and once he was fully nestled into you, he pressed a deep kiss onto your mouth.

he didn't move for a moment, wanting this to last as long as possible.

he was a nice size, not small by any means but not the biggest you'd had. he was perfect.

"you okay?" you whispered, pushing his hair off his forehead.

he nodded, the redness in his cheeks spreading to his chest. he slowly pulled out, and let out a loud, shaky moan with the next thrust. him laying his forehead against your chest let you know that he had cum, his arms trembling a bit.

when he looked at you again, he chuckled.

"what?" you asked.

"lasted past the first thrust." you both laughed at that, and you kissed him again. "next time it'll be better."

"next time?" he nodded. "when will that be?"

he thought for a second. "give me a couple of hours."

[skeletonh0e]

A can of worms

Not a lot of smut for the Freshy Boy, so I gotta rectify that. Fresh is ace but sex neutral. Some kinks included are praise kink, minor size kink, tentadick, and Fresh being Fresh. Also ig loss of virginity on Fresh's side of things, he's inexperienced but not innocent. Reader has AFAB anatomy but pronouns are gender neutral. There's no real plot, only smut, eat up hoes (affectionate). Minors DNI

What was that saying about a can of worms? Once you open it you can't put all of them back? That's how you felt right now, the strange situation of dating Fresh Sans of all people was already one you were still adjusting to. Then came the suggestion of sleeping with this parasite...one you were both intrigued by and definitely considering.

Fresh never brought it up himself, you already suspected a lack of interest and part of the reason you put off ever bringing up the topic. Not to mention the possibility of whether or not he even can do such things was rattling around in your noggin'. However one night you felt bold, the two of you happily in each others embrace when you suddenly cupped his crotch. Right where his hypothetical dick should be.

"I want you."

The confusion was quite literally spelled out as his sunglasses only displayed a various amount of question marks. ".....want what?"

It was a hell of a way to kill your confidence, your face flushed as you asked the next big question. "Can....can you not have sex?"

"what is that?"

You stare at him, "Are you messing with me?"

His sucks in his non-existent lips, his glasses reading out 'NO' and you settled in that you're definitely opening some type of "can of worms" here. You do your best to explain it and it wasn't as hard as you were dreading, Fresh (despite what some will say) isn't stupid and he already knows the basic about different genitalia. The rest was just explaining the finer functions of it.

Of course, talking was one thing. Actually demonstrating with another. You ask the next big question.

"Do you wanna see what I have?"

"oh hell yeah!"

God this man loved to touch you, it was honestly pretty endearing, even in this context. You told him to wait first at the very least, something he reluctantly obeys. You removed your shirt with little fan fair, he's seen your breasts before albeit not completely bare. Next you drop your shorts then your underwear, the sight of bottom half definitely caught his attention.

You set yourself down, spreading your legs to allow him a change to properly look. You don't just stop there, reaching a hand down to part your lower lips. Fresh strangely silent, he comes closer his sunglasses surprisingly blank. Taking in every detail of your cunt, the simple attention alone turns you on and you're not sure you can handle the embarrassment of him commenting on how wet you already are.

"so that's what of these looks like" is instead the first comment that leaves his mouth.

"Never seen a pussy before?" you ask, wishing you could be as calm as he was about it, you hated you were blushing so much.

"nuh-uh! heard 'bout 'em though," his sunglasses don't reveal much, but his head is still firmly down looking at your cunt. It's clear he finds it as beautiful as any part of you. "it's cuteeee can i touch it?"

The can of worms is definitely being opened.

"Y-Yeah, just....be gentle, it's sensitive."

He nods, grinning clearly pleased by the answer. He did what you did at first, tracing the outline of your lips with his boney fingers, parting them before gently tracing you through the layers of your folds. Clearly just content to be touching you but taking note of each reaction you make, you know for a fact most wouldn't believe you if you said the hyperactive Fresh could be surprisingly patient with certain things.

"Have you seen what a cock is?" you quickly realized that term also means chicken and you correct yourself before he summons one of his rubber ones to screech in your face, "A penis I mean."

"those? yeah i saw error's once" he says it so matter of factly and you struggle to hide your surprise at the phrase.

"You have?"

"yeeeeee i snuck up on him while he was alone, he was rubbin' that thing like crazy and got #PISSED when i asked what waz up, didn't get much explanation outta him" the fact that he keeps talking after that, "the thing was pretty big, coulda convinced me it was an extra leg and at the base there was this really-"

"Enough about Error's dick." you interrupted, you hear anymore and you're not gonna be able to look the man in the eye the next time you see him. "Can you- ah!" he seems to have found your clit, something he instantly recognizes as a good thing, choosing to roll his thumb over it again. You're tempted to almost just let him do this but you're far too tempted not to ask. "Do you- uh, have something like that? Or can you make something like that?"

"hmmmmmm" he's clearly more fixated on your pussy right now than the idea of giving himself anything, still keeping two digits on your clit rolling hard circles into it as his thumb drifts down. Pressing right at your entrance but not entering it. If you're knowledge on skeletons was anything something normally forms naturally when they're aroused because of magic, typically what they're most comfortable with, but as far as you can see there isn't really anything. "yeah i can you want something like that?"

You nod, not trusting your voice right now.

"cool beans!" his pants are removed, well tugged down awkwardly with one hand as the other one refuses to stop the word it's doing and something is forming around his pelvis, pink magic that seems good like in it's consistency. It makes something that's well....not a cock necessarily, at least not a normal one but it's vaguely phallic. Stirring to attention, it was thick, kinda veiny, and squirmy. Naturally wet.

Heh. Almost like a worm, go figure.

"like this?" he asks, "i can make it bigger"

"It's plenty big already." you're pretty sure you wouldn't be able to wrap your hand around it if you tried

"for real? error's was-"

"Enough about Error!" that came across as more genuinely angry than intended, you quickly compose yourself. Fresh clearly amused by that outburst more than anything, your eyes remained focused on the tentacle shaped member. It was large, not to much in length it was only above average in that regard but the thickness of it was something else.

You decide for now it's best not to test your limits, but the idea that Fresh did offer to make it bigger is tempting. You feel your insides burn a bit at the idea of it, but you remain focused on the task at hand.

"This." you lean forward, wrapping your hand around it and to your surprise the tendril curls around your inner palm, a soft blush rising to Fresh's cheeks. His entire body seeming to tense at the new sensation, "Goes inside me."

He didn't need that explained to him further, if anything his thumb pressed right against your tight needy hole steadily has pressure applied to it. You almost worry he's actually going to shove it in but he doesn't. "and that feels good?"

"Supposed to, yeah," you know it will, his cock is wet, your pussy is probably wetter and you just want him more now than ever. "It'll feel good for you too."

"i mean i don't doubt that" his hand is removed from your silt, he presses his knee onto the plushness beneath you he can climb on top of you properly. Likewise you removed your hand from his cock, the slimy creature almost clinging to you as you pulled your hand back. Idly you two reposition yourselves, you hook a leg around his hips and he clings firmly onto your waist. He lines his newly formed member to your cunt, his cock seems to almost have a mind of it's own.

Wriggling around through your folds, nudging harshly against your clit making you moan and Fresh has to properly wrangle it in so that it nears your entrance. You have half a mind to tell him to hurry it up, but thankfully Fresh wasn't known for his patience.

He slams into all at once, you're both wet enough to accommodate for it. Doesn't mean you don't fully feel the stretch of his strange member pussy against your velvety walls. You moan loudly as you throw your head back, but somehow Fresh is the more vocal between the two of you.

"oh that's tight" clearly it was meant to be said in the same tone as any of his other 'cool' catch phrases but it came out more strained and raspy, nearly a groan. His hips already perform some light thrusts, more out of impulse than anything, the new sensations were frankly a bit overwhelming to the parasite. "really tight- fuck"

It takes you a minute to respond, you already feel the tendril wiggling around inside you and the feeling of it accidentally brushing against your g-spot is intoxicating. "Good?" you ask him a bit out of breath.

"beyond good why does every part of you feel so amazing?" he thrusts again, a bit harder this time and he enjoys the moan that gets him. Those silly little 'yolo' glasses show only hearts as he focuses down on you, admittedly despite the pleasure it naturally brings him it definitely becomes clear you're the center of it all. He wouldn't have bothered with this if it was with anyone else.

But it's with you. He likes touching you. He likes making you feel good. And he becomes a rather quick learner from the feel of it. His grip on your waist tightens and he picks up the pace a bit, each moan you make further encouragement.

And in typical Fresh fashion, he doesn't shut up.

"heh..heh...your face looks really pretty like this" one hand grips your jaw, making sure the two of you keep your eyes locked on each other. And your pussy clenches down on his cock, something he seems to take notice of, "do you....like it when i call you pretty? cuz you really are and you feel so fuckin' good-"

You both yet and (mostly) love how well he's catching on, he keeps cooing praises to you, which is already enough to fuel the flames of your oncoming orgasm but he manages to ram into your g spot again at just the right time and you cry out his name as you cum violently on his length.

"FRESH!"

"oh fuck!"

His grip on you nearly becomes painful as he thrusts through your orgasm, nearly making you see white as your body goes limp and his entire body quakes as he's hit with his own climax. Entirely lost in the sauce at this rate, making a noise that's a mix of a grunt and another groan, a hot liquid feels your cunt and your nearly whimper at the over-stimulation of the act.

He pants a bit, your pant more. And then...he pulls out, looking down at the mess he made with tightly knitted bone brows. "sorry uh....didn't know that would happen-"

"No need, that's supposed to happen, I wanted it to happen." You do finally look down at your now cum filled pussy....there's a lot more than you were expecting and appropriately....it's pink? Bright pink? Maybe some blue and yellow in there? And....it's glowing? You'd be concerned if you had slept with anyone other than Fresh, but this just fills so appropriately him.

And you're full of him.

"That was....good, do you wanna go again?"

"if you want to sure" he shrugs, clearly happy to just be spending time with you, however he does suddenly lean back down to press at your clit. Playfully pinching it a bit and nearly smirking as it makes you gasp, "can I play with this some first?"

Can of worms? Definitely opened. You don't want to put any of them back though.

"Absolutely."

[softpascalito]

Pregnancy Sex with Javier Peña

Summary: You're pregnant, Javier is overprotective. The problem: You're also really fucking horny.

Relationships: Javier Peña x Reader

WC: ~2600

Tags/Warnings: MNDI!, Explicit, Smut, F/M, Established Relationship, Pregnant Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal FIngering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Aftercare, Idiots in Love, Creampie, this is equally soft and filthy

AO3 LINK

Notes:

hello loves! i have quite literally not written smut in years but i needed this to exist so here we are. some feedback or just a short comment means the world to me. and now enjoy! <3 - lea

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The curtains blew in the wind, moved by a gentle breeze. Bogotá was rarely peaceful. Even in the night, sirens and occasional gunshots could be heard, disturbing a city that was trying to sleep, trying to find some kind of peace in the dark.

For a long time, you hadn't thought it possible for something like peace to exist in this place. Then you had met Javier Peña.

And at first, he too had seemed like the furthest thing from peace. He was all marlboro reds and sleepless nights and gentle, brown eyes that had seen far too many people die.

You'd been sick this morning. Not actually sick though. 

Morning sickness had been plaguing you for a few weeks but up until now, it hadn't been as bad. Your body had flat out refused to keep anything down, including the medication that was supposed to help lower the light fever you'd developed by mid morning. 

Javier had insisted on getting Connie to take a look at you. If he had been overprotective of you before the pregnancy, you weren't sure how to describe his current state. Carrying a grocery bag by yourself was considered a high danger by the Agent, no matter how light it was. To everyone's surprise, the protectiveness hadn't stopped with you. He had not only started carrying said grocery bags himself but he'd also stopped smoking, which was considered nothing short of a miracle by everyone around you.

After his brief chat with Connie, he had taken half the day off, staying behind to take care of you even though you'd insisted you were fine.

At first, he had seemed like the furthest thing from peace. Then you'd gotten to know him and in return he'd gotten you pregnant. And suddenly Javier Peña had given you a peace and love so deep, you still couldn't fully comprehend it. You weren't sure he could either.

The sickness had lessened over the day, aided by Javi actually getting you to eat a little something for dinner. You had fallen asleep on the couch a short while later. Now, you were in bed, happy to have kept your food down. Still, your pregnancy had left you with a completely different kind of problem.

“Javi?” You mumbled into the dark, unsure if he was already asleep. It only took a second for him to sit up, turning to face you. Even with nothing but the low light from the street falling in through the windows, you could see the worry on his face.

“What do you need, querida?” His voice was a little rougher than usual after not having spoken in a while. Maybe he had in fact already been asleep.

“Nothing.” You mumbled, giving a small shrug. You felt stupid. This was stupid.

Javier sensed that there was some sort of hesitation on your part and he shifted a little, reaching out for you:” C'mere.” He whispered. You obliged, cuddling into his side as you looked up at him. He gave you a small smile and you couldn't help but lean forward, pressing a small kiss to his lips. Javier kissed back gently, never with too much force.

Taking initiative, you prodded his lips with your tongue until he opened his mouth a tiny bit, allowing you entrance. Your hand that had been resting on his chest slid down his shirt. Before he could realize what was happening, it had dipped under his waistband of his boxers and your hand was gently wrapped around him.

Javier finally broke the kiss and sucked in a breath:” Querida..” He mumbled. Just as you felt him twitch, he moved. Ever so gently, his hand followed yours and carefully led it back up to his chest, placing it there with a small pat. You pouted at him, even in the dark:” Look, don't laugh, please. Just, sometimes the hormones-”

“get you really fucking horny?” He asked with a small smirk, completing the sentence for you.

You frowned at him. His hand was still on yours and you turned it a little so your fingers could intertwine:” How do you know about that?”

“Read it in a book.” He replied simply. You raised your brows, unable to suppress a small giggle:” The book said “really fucking horny” ?”

“Something along those lines.” A low chuckle escaped his throat. You stayed like that for a moment, both grinning, holding hands. Then he spoke again, this time more softly.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

You had never thought you'd hear Javier Peña say that. Not that he had ever wanted to hurt you. He was an attentive lover and he was always careful not to go too rough on you. Clearly you weren't the only one changed by the pregnancy.

“I'm not asking you to hurt me. Im asking you to fuck me.” You hummed, again bold enough to take the lead as you rolled on top of him and sat up slightly. Your bump was barely showing and the shirt you had stolen from him hid most of it but a tiny curve was showing through the fabric, standing proudly over Javier's own stomach.

He opened his mouth to undoubtedly continue the discussion when you slowly began to grind your hips on him. Whatever argument he'd had prepared gave way for the breathy moan that escaped his throat.

It took him every ounce of self-control to not give in right there and then. When you leaned down to kiss him again, he took the chance and gently grabbed your hips, lifting you off him and returning you into a more comfortable position beside him:” Baby...”

He took a deep breath, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at you:” You sure you want this?”

You huffed:” Yes, I am sure. If you read the stupid book, you know its safe and-”

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands in defense:” Just making sure.” His large hand wandered over your hair before gently caressing your cheek:” We'll do this my way.”

Even if you were unsure what he meant by that exactly, you gave a small nod. He had never not been good to you. You only hoped he wasn't trying to be too good.

Javier gently grabbed his pillow and gently pushed it under your back:” Let me take care of you.” He mumbled as he guided you to lie back into your own pillow, evidently trying to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. As he moved around you and adjusted the blankets, you got a good look at him. 

You weren't sure if it was the situation or the attention you had given him earlier but you could tell his boxers were getting uncomfortably tight. He didn't seem to mind, taking his time in making the surroundings perfect for you- you weren't sure exactly how the blanket next to you was going to heighten your sexual pleasure, but you were happy he was at least doing something.

Eventually, he returned his attention to your body and gently grabbed your ankle, running his hand all the way up your leg until it was resting on your upper thigh. His thumb brushed over the soft skin on the inside of it, drawing half-circles. You squirmed under his touch, trying to push yourself against him.

“So impatient .” He chuckled but he did use his other hand to slowly push up your shirt:” Have I told you how sexy you look in my clothes?” It came out as a mumble and you gave a small grin as you raised your arms to help him slide it off:” You have.”

“Good,” came his reply. He brought up both his hands to gently cup your breasts as he leaned down to kiss you again:” Just checking.”

He let his hands wander down to your round stomach and you could see his gaze change. He had those large, round puppy eyes that were reserved for those who knew him best and that always got the better of you- even now. Making you forget the need between your legs, you instead settled contently on watching him caress your stomach.

Javi apparently felt the same, taking his time to gently rub it before leaning down to give it a few kisses. He hummed softly as he kissed a trail down to the upper end of your panties. They slid down your legs in one quick motion and another soft kiss of the thigh was all you got before you felt his mustache brush against you.

He looked up at you for a fleeting moment:” Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nodded quickly. The need had returned and you wanted nothing more than to feel him.

Javi licked a stripe up your slit, immediately drawing a moan from you as you let your head fall back. He alternated between soft kisses and gently sucking on your clit, running his tongue over every inch between your legs before finally plunging it inside.

Your hand automatically wandered into his hair, pulling gently as you tried not to fall apart right away. 

His name left your lips more times than either of you could count, starting out as a soft moan and quickly turning into a whimper, begging for more.

“Javi, por favor.”

“Está bien, I got you.” He muttered, the vibrations of his voice adding an extra layer of intensity to the feeling of his mouth on you. He added one finger and when he realized how wet and open you were, a second one. 

The feeling of his large fingers moving in and out of you combined with his tongue still on your clit brought you to the edge faster than you wanted.

“Please, want you inside,” You whispered, gazing down at his brown curls peeking out between your thighs. He raised his head at that and you could see him carefully studying your face, his hair already messy from your attacks. Neither of you really cared. If anything, you thought it looked good on him.

“You sure it's not too much?” He asked again, not yet quite moving to fulfill your wishes. You gave a small nod:” I'm sure.”

You must have sounded more secure than you actually were because he gave an approving look and then leaned back to slide down his boxers, his cock springing free immediately. He was already painfully hard and you could see the tip glistening.

Javi gently spread your legs a little further, always careful to keep the position comfortable. He rubbed his cock over your slit a few times before giving in and slowly, carefully pushing inside. Automatically, your hands found him again, this time gripping onto his upper arms for support as you took a few deep breaths. 

He kept a watchful glance on you as he bottomed out with a small groan and stilled inside of you, clearly wanting to give you some time to adjust to his size.

You silently marveled at his self control. It wasn't exactly a quality he had ever lacked but you could feel how he was shaking a little more than usual with the effort of staying still.

“Doing so well, querida.” He mumbled as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, always mindful to not put too much pressure on your stomach. You smiled softly and ran your hands up his arms until they were drawing small circles on his back. 

You squeezed a little, a sign he had come to understand for you being ready.

Very slowly, he started to pull out again- just to slide right back in. He let out a groan that mixed with yours. Clearly satisfied with the reaction, he repeated the motion again and again- speeding up ever so slightly with each thrust.

It was a different kind of lovemaking, slow and gentle and easy, like both of you had simply been made to fit together like this, molded against each other's bodies. It was perfect. It was Javi. A different Javi than you'd met months ago. But still Javi.

One of your hands wandered into his hair again and it wasn't long before your whimpers from before turned into downright prayers, whispering his name over and over again as you begged him to give you more. Javier had lost his initial reluctance, daring a bit more, as he too, whispered constant praise into your ear.

“Where?” He managed to choke out, knowing he wasnt gonna last much longer. You used the hand in his hair to pull him down towards you, meeting his lips with another kiss, humming into it:” Inside.”

He looked at you for a split second and you could feel his movements slow a bit as he clearly weighed his options.

“You know, I can't exactly get pregnant again.” You whispered, giggling a little under him. Javi gave you an adoring look and nodded:” Are you challenging me?”

His pace picked up and he kissed your cheek again as he aimed to hit that perfect spot that he knew made you feel so good.

“You're perfect, you know that, querida?” He mumbled:” You gonna come with me?”

You nodded eagerly and it only took a few more thrusts until you felt the pleasure wash over you, clenching down on him as you rode out your orgasm. Javi groaned your name, following suit and spilling inside of you just as you had requested.

When you came down from your high, you still felt his arms around you, holding you gently. He planted soft kisses all over your neck and down your collarbones, waiting for you to fully return to him. You were content to just lay there and stare at him and wonder how in the world you'd gotten so lucky.

He watched you with a smile:” What's going on in that head of yours? I didn't fuck you stupid, did I?” Javi ducked, chuckling when you playfully aimed for his head:'' Cabrón.” You muttered under your breath.

He didn't even try to hide his grin as he let go of you to carefully pull out. To your surprise, he was actually prepared, having a small towel ready that he used to clean you up, wiping down the reminiscents of your love-making.

As your brain slowly regained his normal function you, once again, couldn't control a small giggle. Javier glanced up at you with a raised brow as he put the towel aside:" What's so funny?"

"You read a book."

Javier managed his best to actually look offended:" I read books."

"A pregnancy book." You continued, giggling a little more. It was cute how hard he was trying. Javier slid up your panties again, making sure you were both dressed before he pulled the covers back over you.

As he returned to his spot next to you, you could spot a faint blush on his cheek. He grumbled something as he smoothed over the blanket, avoiding your gaze.

Your gaze softened a bit as your giggling died down:”Javi.” You mumbled, pulling him closer:” I think it's very sweet.” His shoulders visibly relaxed a little more at that and he sighed softly:” You do?”

“I do. Especially if it taught you to do that .” You teased gently as the two of you scooted closer, his arms finding their way around you once more as your eyes already started to droop:” Did it have any other world-changing tips to offer about pregnancy?”

Javier gazed down at you, taking in your relaxed face. He smiled.

” It said you should go to sleep. It's been a long day.”

You hummed contently as you felt him pressing a soft kiss to your lips and then one more to your forehead.

”Yeah, it has been.”

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i hope you liked this! dont forget to leave a comment if you did <3 if you want more of my unhinged horny thoughts, also check out my twt @softpascalito :)

[distracted-milkshake]

Right Now, Right Now! - Poe Dameron x reader

Warnings: talk of male contraceptives and fertility, likely inaccurate medical information, established relationship but not much specified

Words: >1k, 555

Rating: T

Summary: Poe has a surprise for you on Mother’s Day.

Can you tell I’ve never written Poe or Star Wars before?

Struggling with everything so badly but felt some short fluff nonsense might help. Happy Mother’s Day!

AO3 Link

“Happy Mother’s Day!”

You were laid back in your shared bed, reading. You were comfy, until Poe had all but jumped in beside you, leaning over your bent legs with a huge smile on his face.

“Poe, I’m not a mother.”

“No, but you will be.” He said.

You looked up as he leaned back on his haunches to dig around in his pocket and tossed a half empty plastic pill pack and two tiny metal clips on your lap.

“I got my VOC out and stopped taking my blockers. Babymaker’s up and running!”

You scoffed, sitting up a little.

You had been telling Poe for months how much you wanted a baby and the answer was always he didn’t feel ready or like it was a good idea just yet. Eventually, you just stopped asking.

It wasn’t like you weren’t happy, just you two, and you didn’t want to push him if he really just didn’t feel up to it yet, even if it was that he would never be. But now it looked like he was ready.

You stared at the itty devices on your shirt.

“Poe, those were inside your penis.”

He blinked. “Yeah. Well they’re not anymore. And actually, technically they were on my vas deferens—”

“And you put them on my clothes!”

“I just got back from med bay, they’re clean!”

“That’s still gross!”

“I want to have a child with you and you’re hung up on my contraception device. Typical.”

“You’re seriously ready to have a kid?” You asked.

“I’ve never been more ready.”

“Does this mean you aren’t scared anymore?”

“Oh no, I’m still terrified of becoming a dad. I’m just tired of putting it off, it’s not ever going to be perfect, I’ve gotta stop pretending like it needs to be. Because you’re not gonna be able to have my kids forever, and so long as I’ve known you I’ve known you’d make the best mother in the entire Galaxy. I would be such an idiot if I passed that up.”

“Stop…” You rolled your eyes away from his adoring warm gaze.

“I am dead serious. And I wanna get started right now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like right now right now?”

“Right now, right now!” He laughed, sliding his arms around your waist, bobbing his head enthusiastically. “My tubes are all healthy, doesn’t look like there’s any damage, but it still might take a few days or even a week for stuff to get moving properly again.”

He scrunched his nose, just inches from yours. “And I might be firing some blanks for a bit after that, till the pills are completely out of my system, but I really wanted to surprise you today. I wanna, you know, start trying. You never know. And I’ve got loads to make up for.”

“You’re really ready?”

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“Alright then.”

You raked his curls off of his forehead, straightening your leg to pull him close enough to kiss. He brushed the clips off your stomach and returned it sweetly, pushing you both back into the pillows.

He pulled back and brushed your cheek, letting his eyes wander from yours to your lips to the lack of space between you.

“I swear, next Mother’s Day you’re gonna be a mom, starlight.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

————

An unnecessarily comprehensive note on Poe’s contraceptive methods:

I included a real though not commercially available male contraceptive measure called vas-occlusive contraception, which is anything that’s used to block sperm in the tubes that would be cut in a vasectomy (the vas deferens), but instead of cutting the tubes they’re blocked in some other way. The reversible method I settled on was removable clips, but there are also biodegradable gels, plugs, and even little valves which are possibly the funniest looking little things made for the human body I’ve ever seen.

He’s also taking oral hormone blockers on top of this to prevent sperm production as well as not a hundred percent are blocked and he just wanted to be sure.

The exact hormones the blockers would be blocking are gonadotropins, I can’t speak to how harmful this would be long term or at all, as again this is not commercially available and doesn’t have a lot of clinical testing I read into, but everything except the production and sperm’s transport from the testes would be about the same in his body. I didn’t get too deep into this, just enough to hopefully not be wildly inaccurate because you know sometimes you have an idea but it takes a little research before you just throw it in haphazard.

Oh also, by firing blanks, he’s referring to ejaculating with underdeveloped, malformed, or little to no sperm while sperm production is returning to normal.

Would it make sense for him to be able to get treatment this good in the Resistance? I don’t freaking know maybe before the Republic was destroyed I just like Poe and speculative medical practice that takes the burden off female contraceptive measures because he’d be cool like that. I know better than to dig into the lore of a fandom this big for just a oneshot I would never get back out. They probably don’t even celebrate Mother’s Day.

Thank you for reading!

[sharksfrommars]

I saw like one trans Stanley post, and remembered some random notes app Drabble I had started.

I finished it up (or at least up to the portal incident). I love transmasc Stanley. So much. Probably won’t finish it, unless work is slow and boring. Then it’s a maybe.

mentions drugs, sex work, and typical 60s transphobia. Though overall I think it’s pretty light. Pronouns reflect how Stan thinks of himself, so it starts off with she/her.

Stanley pines had a boys name. Her parents weren’t expecting twins, so when Stanley popped out right after her brother Stanford, their father Filbrick just named both of them Stan. He wasn’t very creative.

And so Lee and Ford were born, the Stan twins. Inseparable. Ford had 6 fingers and was self conscious about it, but Lee would always stick up for him. (“NO ONE MESSES WITH MY BROTHER BUT ME!!”). They didn’t have many friends but they had each other. Two peas in a pod.

Lee was born a girl, but no one could tell. Everyone would always assume that she was a boy, cus she was loud and boisterous. Not that she minded. It felt good to be seen as the toughest kid on the playground, and there’s no way her peers would see her as such if she was a girl. So at the playground she told everyone she was a boy.

Ford asked about it one night. “Lee… why do you always tell people you’re a boy?”

Stanley thought for a moment before answering. “Cus I am a boy?”

“You’re not though? Right? Wait ARE you a boy? You don’t have a penis though? Is that possible?”

“HA! You said penis, Sixer!”

Ford looked annoyed. “Lee, are you a boy or not?”

Stanley was quiet for a long time. Ford was getting a bit worried, when Lee spoke up. 

“I think… in my heart I’m a boy.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense. You’re the manliest kid I know”

And that was that while they were small kids. They would happily play as brothers, and everyone at the playground would just accept it. That was until they started school the next year.

Going though school was hell for the both of them. Ford got picked on for being a nerd, for ‘sucking up’ to the teachers, and most of all for his 6 fingers. And everyone knew Lee was ‘just a tomboy really’, so she got called a Dyke and a lezzie every other day. Each time, the bullies were met by Lee’s feral rage.

Filbrick decided that Ford needed to ‘toughen up’. He decided that he couldn’t have Ford ‘hiding behind his sister all day’. Lee insisted he could protect Ford, but the pines were nothing if not stubborn, and Filbrick refused to budge. So Stanford was forced to join boxing. He hated it. But every day, Lee would ask him to teach her the moves.

Eventually, Lee asked if she could join boxing too. There wasn’t a women’s club, but Lee insisted she could go head to head with any boy. Filbrick and caryn ended up letting her. She wasn’t going to drop it, and besides, she was clearly never going to be particularly feminine. 

“She’s our little free spirit, Fil. I think we should encourage her.” Caryn said.

“She ain’t gonna be much of a woman, the way she’s going” he responded.

“Don’t worry about that so much, fil! She’ll be fine! Sometimes I wonder if she shoulda been a boy”

“Yeah. I wonder that too. Every time I gotta buy her a new pair of jeans. I don’t know how she tears them so much.”

And Stanley LOVED boxing. She was good at it too. Managed to take down opponents 3 years older than her. And Stanford was more willing to go when Lee joined too. 

—————————

Soon enough they were 13. Their bodies started changing. And suddenly, everyone at school started to notice the opposite gender. Except the stans.

Ford was really more interested in his nerd games and science projects. And Lee only cared about the Stan o war. And also the way the other girls would tuck their hair behind their ears, or might lick their lips, or how much she wanted to see them… “ah shit. I am a lesbian aren’t I?”

Lee kissed a lot of girls. All of them said she would make a great boyfriend. That made her feel rEALLY good. She was charming too. She’d managed to kiss more girls than any single one of the boys. But none of them ever really wanted to date her, they would tell her that they “weren’t like that” or say “it’s kinda creepy though, isn’t it?” It upset Lee more than she let on. She wished she was a boy. Maybe then girls would actually want to date her and not just experiment.

Being a teenager just made Stanley more boyish. She started going by Stan mostly, with only Ford really calling her Lee. She only wore menswear, had her hair cut short and pushed back. She’d look just like any other teenage boy except… well except the body. Puberty was not kind to Stan, she had gotten boobs. Somehow, they were less exciting on her than they were on other girls. But still. When people first met them, they’d assume Stanley was the boy. “It’s cus I’m so much manlier than you, six! Maybe if you got your head out of that nerd book people would actually talk to you.”

This bothered Ford. Actually pretty much everything Stan did irritated Ford these days. It irritated him that they spent all their time together. It bothered him that Stan could talk to girls, could talk to anyone. Sometimes, it felt like Stanley was a better version of himself. Able to interact with the world. More of a man than he was. Ford knew that thinking like that was causing them to drift away. But as they got older, it was getting harder to care.

One night, when they were 16, Stan snuck in through the window in the middle of the night. Ford was still awake, of course, but he really wasn’t happy.

“Lee!” He said, “where were you?!”

Stan shrugged. “Around”

She was actually hooking up with Carla McCorkle, who had asked to keep the whole thing a secret. Ford gave Stan a squinted glare.

“What do you mean, ‘Around’, Lee! It’s 2 in the morning!”

“I meant I was around. It’s non of ya business.” She replied. Ford scoured.

“You weren’t messing around with the girls from school again, were you?” Ford asked. Stan responded with nothing 

“LEE!”

“What? Like I said, it’s none of ya business!”

“Lee you can’t keep sneaking out on the middle of the night. It’s reckless! Besides, people might talk!”

Stan shrugged. “It ain’t reckless if I got pepper spray in my back pockets. And what do you care if people talk. They’re gonna talk anyway, might as well give em something interesting to gossip about”

Ford looked at Stan for a long time.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Lee. You’re my sister.”

Somehow that was the wrong thing to say. 

“And that means I just gotta stay in my room and look pretty, yeah? I’ve been gettin’ hurt for the both of us since we were six. I can handle myself.” Stan spat as she walked off. 

They didn’t talk any more that night, but Ford couldn’t sleep. He really was worried about Stan. She was nothing like other girls their age. People really did talk a lot about Stan, practically the whole town knew she… wasn’t inclined towards men. Ford wondered whether he should go to the library and find out more. Surely there’d be books on this sort of thing, and he wanted to be there for her.

But the idea of asking the librarians whether they had books on lesbians made Ford shiver. He was enough of a target as he was. 

————————————

After the science fair, Ford decided he didn’t have a sister. That’s what he said to her. It turned out that Stanley didn’t care about him or his dreams at all. She’d broken his machine, ruined his chances of going to an actually good college, and worst of all, she didn’t even care! She brought up treasure hunting when he confronted her.

Filbrick heard them fight, and it turned into an argument between him and Stan. It was ugly, bringing up years of resentment on both sides. 

Then Filbrick mentioned sending her to Europe to live with his sister. To teach her how to be a “real woman”. To have her marry rich because “that’s the only value you’ll ever bring this family.”

That last one is what sent Stan off the edge. She went cold, fire still burning in her eyes. She went to pack her bags. Ford followed her.

“Lee! What are you doing?”

“Packing”

“Where are you gonna go?”

Stan turned around, angrily.

“What’s it to you, I thought I ‘wasn’t your sister anymore.’”

“Lee this is serious! You can’t make it out there on your own.”

“What would ya have me do, Sixer? Go abroad, get married to some rich fuck who doesn’t care about me at all?”

“I mean, Dad can’t make you get married. And Europe does sound nice. And you’d have our Aunt!”

Stan glared, colder than Ford had ever seen.

“You think I should go.” It wasn’t a question.

“You did break my project, Stanley.” Ford said quietly. “It was a really big opportunity to me. For this family.”

“Fuck you, Ford. All you care about is that stupid project. You were gonna leave me behind, so don’t you start actin’ like you care SO MUCH about family.” She had tears in her eyes now. She pushed Ford. “Well, you can go fuck right off to your fancy college. I’ll make it by myself. I don’t need you! I don’t need ANYONE!”

She shoved past Ford, and made for the front door. Filbrick yelled at her, saying that there wouldn’t be a place for her if she left. She ignored it, storming to her car. She looked back at the window, where Ford was watching from. Like she was looking for something. Anything. But clearly she didn’t find it, because she got into the car and drove away. Ford guessed this would be the last time he saw his sister.

—————————

Stan travelled around a lot, trying all sorts of odd jobs. She wanted to prove herself, to show her stupid dad and stupid brother that she could make it without them. She wanted to show up on their doorstep with a million dollars, just to see the look on their faces. He left New Jersey behind, she was starting her new life now.

That’s how Stan ended up in New York City in 1970. And that was the first time they ever met anyone like them. Turns out, there were all sorts of interesting folk out in the big city. Butches and dykes, trans and androgynous people. All sorts of queers. They’d recognised Stan’s own queerness almost immediately, and took them in as one of their own. 

Thats when Stan found themself, where realised that they might not have to live as a woman their whole life. They ended up working as a bouncer for a gay club. Turned out, their boss was the ACTUAL MAFIA, which was more surprising to Stan than he was willing to admit. 

Stan had a good run in New York! They learned about DIY hormones, and got a girlfriend. Most people assumed Stan was a man, and they didn’t correct them. They learned tips from a cross dressing friend on how to have a more masculine figure. And they spent the night partying up a storm.

The problem was, Stan didn’t feel like they were proving themself. They were pretty much broke, had nothing to their name. He lay awake at night, missing his mother, missing Ford. He wanted to go back, but he couldn’t. Not until he proved himself. That determination was what doomed him.

Looking back, Stan thought he could have built a good life in New York. He could have built a family, a home. A place to belong.

Instead, he decided to steal 5000 American Dollars collected by the club he worked at, and used it to gamble in Atlantic city.

He figured he would just win big, pay the money back, and no one would notice. And he was going to win. No one ever caught him cheating.

Except for this time. Stan found himself in trouble with the casino. They stole all his money and beat him black and blue. They then chased him out of New Jersey, back into New York City. 

He came back to a warrant for his arrest. His own community has turned against him, and wanted nothing to do with him.

“You stole 5000 DOLLARS, Stan! You know how many people we could have helped?!”

“I was gonna pay it back!”

They weren’t hearing it. So Stan drove out of New York, bitter and determined. He guessed he really was on his own.

—————————

The next few years were wild. At some point, Stan had fully just started living as a man. He didn’t even notice it, really. It just seemed easier, even if he didn’t have a way to access the testosterone he was taking back in New York.

Stan went into sales for a while, selling scammy products to impressionable fools. He was good at the selling part, at least. However, most of his products were useless, bad quality junk, that more often than not gave people rashes. That got him kicked out of most of the east coast.

After that, Stan decided to give his hand at amateur pornography. He made quite a bit of money that way in Chicago. His whole thing was that he was “a man with a pussy”. Apparently there was a market for that.? Honestly though, Stan kind of hated doing porn. It sounded like a good idea, but really it was long sticky and uncomfortable days, with creeps leering at him and getting paid to do it. Stan ended up breaking the nose of a big time producer, and got himself blacklisted from the entire industry. In response, Stan stole their money and burned down their set. And now he wasn’t allowed in Illinois.

So he went back to scam products. This time though, they ended up including certain illicit substances that he became familiar with in Chicago. Turned out that drugs were WAY more profitable than double sided spades or edible plastic dinosaurs that you couldn’t eat (they had asbestos). For a short while, Stan was living the high life.

Somehow, whenever his life was going well, Stan would end up at the casino. He bet it all on black, and ended up losing it all. He owed the casino big time, and he couldn’t get more stuff from his supplier without any money.

Luckily(?) for Stan, this casino was a dodgy one, run by the cartel. They saw potential in him, saw how well he could sell product and figured he was desperate enough to do anything for them. He was.

So then Stan was a drug mule, carrying drugs, pugs and other things across the border into the US. He got to see a lot of South America, though he might have killed a llama or two. He learned Spanish and he built up his rank in the cartel. He was a force to be reckoned with. And he did SO much cocaine. Enough cocaine that Stan didn’t remember ‘76 at all. 

He ended up serving time in Columbian prison for the llamacide. 25 years. Stan wasn’t doing that, so he rallied together the women in the prison, and they all hatched a plan for hostile takeover. Naturally, it was risky, but that never stopped Stan fucking Pines. He may have lost hearing in one ear, but he did manage to escape.

Stan ended up going back to the cartel. It was stupid, but he they felt like family. He knew they didn’t feel the same, but the boss, Rico, always treated Stan well. At least, as well as you can when you’re a cartel boss. Rico thought Stan had gumption, and wanted to see Stan go in to bigger and better things. So he put Stan in charge of a very important payload. One that had to be dealt with by someone who was loyal, and could be cutthroat. Stan thought he could be that guy.

Stan couldn’t be that guy. He found out what was in the payload. He went back to Rico, having lost the payload in a “massive cavern”. Rico was not amused. He sent Stan to Tijuana, to work in a club to earn back the value that he lost. It wasn’t the sort of work he was used to.

Stripping sucked. Especially when you didn’t get any money from it. Every penny went to Rico, who made Stan do coke with his ‘clients’. Said clients were the worst sort. They made him feel objectified, and he just went along with it. His brain was empty and he dissociated a lot.

Then, he was rescued. A biker gang had come to town, apparently they had beef with Rico’s crew. Stan ended up ‘dancing’ for one of the bikers, a guy named Jimmy snakes. Stan gave him intel, and in return, Snakes took Stan back to the US. It was then that Stan started to realise that he might not be as strictly into women as he thought.

Stan’s relationship with Snakes was explosive, passionate, and very, very gay. It wasn’t like anything Stan had experienced before. He wasn’t really sure of his identity these days, he hadn’t really thought about it since New York. He didn’t really know whether he was a man or a woman, he was too busy spending the last half decade high as a kite and being beaten to a pulp. But his relationship with Jimmy made him question that. They rode together, and shared a bed. Jimmy liked Stan as a man, he made that much clear. And Stan liked that. Stan hadn’t felt close like that to someone for a long time.

So of course, Stan ruined it. It was a heist, they were going to be robbing a bank. Stan and Jimmy made all the plans, and the crew were ready. But Stan noticed something. Something about the layout or the cameras didn’t feel right, so he left. A police officer caught him trying to leave, and he spilled. Everything, all the plans they had, where their base was. Stan wasn’t really sure why he was telling this cop. Maybe it was because Snakes didn’t finish him off last night. Or maybe it was the 10 000 dollars the cops were offering in exchange for information. The gang was arrested by nightfall.

Stan stayed in Nevada for a while. He kept a low profile, by which he meant going back to selling scam products. Truly, his passion in life. That didn’t last long, until the bikers caught him one night. Jimmy spoke to Stan, cold but heartbroken. The beat him up, and shoved him into the trunk of a car.

And Stanley fucking pines chewed his way out, like a maniac, and ran off. That night, Stan slept in his car. He didn’t really have anywhere to go, so he just started drifting. Making money where he could. It was never enough, not really. Stan lived off junk food and broken dreams, as he got banned from states for petty crime. He thought about Ford a lot. He kept a picture of the two of them boxing in his sun visor. He was full of regret, for the science fair and how things turned out. Stan wondered if Ford felt the same. 

Stan didn’t regret leaving. He was seen as he wanted to be seen these days, as pathetic as that sight was. At least he was a pathetic man. The idea of being sent off to become some fancy lady and be married off to whoever could stand him was actually terrifying. 

He just missed his brother. He missed having someone who had his back. Stan idly wondered how Ford would feel, if he saw him now. Would he get it? Stan liked to think he would. He tried to call Ford sometimes, when he was feeling sad and drunk enough. He never could bring himself to say anything though.

Eventually, Stan managed to afford a shitty motel in New Mexico. Rico had tracked him down, and had given him two months to get Rico 10 000 dollars. There was no way he could do that. He just sat in the motel room, waiting for death to take him. 

That was, until he got a knock on the door one day. A postcard, from a little known town called Gravity Falls.

—————————

Ford had fallen through the portal. And Stan was frustrated. Ford had been jumpy and on edge. He didn’t notice Stan’s deeper voice, or that he was binding his chest. He didn’t notice the soft traces of facial hair that grew on his face. No, ford was panicked by something. Or someone. And now he was lost in another dimension. Because Stan couldn’t bear the idea that Ford didn’t want him in his life. Ford had everything he could ever want in these woods. 

All Stan knew was he had to get his brother back. Maybe then they could be brothers for real this time. It was all Stan could hope that Ford would be thankful, and would forgive him.

When Stan left the shack after running out of food, the townsfolk mistook Stan for Ford. It was strange. Some part of him felt good, the part of him that was a man. The part of him that was a brother felt horrible though. Stan did what he did best and ran with it. Offered tours through Ford’s house like it was some spooky attraction for money. It was his best scam yet. He faked his death. Only his mother came to the funeral. He became Stanford pines by day. And by night, he would work on the portal. 

He reconnected with his mother and brother Shermie. It turned out neither of them had heard anything from Ford for a long while. They seemed very glad to have ‘Ford’ back in their lives. Stan justified getting surgery to himself. It would help him pass better as Stanford, and now he had the money. His life was good, if sad. Every day, he would stare at the portal, willing it to fix itself.

[wolfertinger]

"//anon

Hes pissing me off why is he bumping his worthless dribble with rabbit pictures? Salems the most bigotted person ive seen and he refuses to examine his fuckass views because hes a BUNNY TBOY WITH TITS! So hes cant POSSIBLY have queerphobic, racist values. And oh my God he cant possibly be making art that serves to appeal to a white gaze!

Listicle of things Salem does to assimilate:

Strictly tries to appeal to his white audience by only being Vague in his anti-racism, but making his art have white beauty standards, petite slime faces, big doe eyes, tiny noses attractive hourglass figures, he only recently committed to drawing textured hair but only does it in a way that doesnt scathe the white people who follow him, which is most of his followers. He refuses to apply any other ethnic feature besides hair texture to his poc characters, and he never directly calls them their ethnicity, instead saying CODED...

Society expects trans women and trans men to be feminine, they dont see trans men as men and they make trans women struggle for acceptance (which they will never get.) so his refusal to draw anything outside of "gnc tboy pretty tgirl" and refusal to make characters outside of the gender binary suggests he doesnt care about exploring queerness beyond his personal fetishes and what everybody is already comftrable with- objectified afabs (cis women or trans men) and objectified trans women.

General objectification of women. Fetishizes lesbianism despite being a binary man.

Only recently making any statement that is pro-transition, but he still seems to have not properly examined his bias against medical transition, he carries bioessentialist ideas like AMABS are inherently masculine and AFABS are inherently feminine, the trans softboy submits to his slightly masc trans cockgirl girlfriend (objectifying terms only applied because of how Salem sees it), but testosterone makes you miserable, evil and a devious murderer. Estrogen used to be the "softening, soothing hormone" but he is now leaning towards it simply giving the tfem boobs but not changing her "biological coding".

Asian fetishism.

Strictly treats queerness like its inherently sexual, every time he engages with queerness it loops back around to how horny lesbians, trans women and gnc trans men make him, but he doesnt engage with queer sex itself because thats Weird! He doesnt know about muffing, sides, hanky code, carabiners, lesbian axe, the meaning of lavender, friend of Dorothy, etc. At most, he knows what a jockstrap and strapon and strep throat is. But he wont even draw a trans man penetrating a trans woman.

Which brings me to my next point- how he never draws anything besides m/f piv vanilla sex. The most queer piece of porn he ever drew was his fursona shitting himself, and even then he would never engage with scat besides implication.. but beyond that, he only cares for penis in vagina sex between a man and woman, the quirk here though is that its TRANS! But that doesnt make it queer or subversive, im sorry.

Gets off to corrective rape.

All his characters are conventionally attractive- and as stated before, designed to appeal to white beauty standards.

I could go on.

Salems only gimmick is that he draws gnc trans men and that hes a lesbian fetishist and a trans fetishist, he refuses to engage with a community outside of white furries who eat up his preaching but know they can ignore most of it because they tokenize him and dont examine their own bigotries as a result, because what he spouts is Safe and doesnt actually force you to change anything about yourself beside "be less racist". Even though his art his promoted asian fetishism, even though he cant draw asian people.

But hes a trans bunnyboy right? Trans bunnyboys dont hold any assimilatory views that only serve to get them ass pats from white people? And surely bunnyboys could NEVER be racist and fetishists?

Also he supports and shelters zoophiles + pedophiles + incest when it benefits him and this is something that society at large sadly does aswell.

He isnt combatting any bigotted ideologies with his mid hetero porn. Its not even faggot porn at this point."

[procyonloser]

Alastor hadn't actually wanted to become a doctor, he'd wanted to be a radio host, but supposedly that wasn't a viable interest past the year 1995 - and he flat out refused to become a... podcaster. So, he'd gone into medicine.

Alastor was also a cannibal, who had a habit of eating his patients, but this particular story wasn't exactly about him. No, it all revolved around an odd case in his clinic. Mimzy, an RN with a drug habit and a loan shark problem that was also not the star of the story, walked into his office with a look. Which meant his interest was about to be piqued.

"I've got a weird one," Mimzy said, holding up a file. Alastor pushed away from his desk, rolling smoothly over to her.

"Do tell, my dear!"

"Guy comes into the clinic in a panic, insisting something is wrong with him. The med tech brings him into triage, and his vitals are mostly normal, slightly high BP, but he's a big guy. So, they ask what the problem is, right?" Mimzy said, hopping up to sit down on the exam table. "You'll never guess what he said was wrong with him."

"You also know how I very much hate to play guessing games!" Alastor grinned tightly.

"He said his dick vanished, and he grew a vagina." Mimzy answered happily, and Alastor raised an eyebrow. "I know what you're thinking, but no, blood test showed no drugs in his system, and he had no history of brain injuries or psychiatric problems."

"So, was he right?" Alastor asked, and Mimzy nodded.

"I did the physical examination myself, he was indeed sans penis and testes. So, I start to look at his medical record. All I could find said that he was assigned male at birth, all his records had his sex down as a male. But, obviously our cataloging system is a nightmare. So, I looked into the doctors he had gone to previously. You know the last time he saw any doctor? It was 2 years ago. Guess why." Mimzy purred.

"No!" Alastor beamed.

"It wouldn't hurt you to play along sometime, Alastor. Fine - he went to get snipped. I contacted the doctor that did the vasectomy even, and had confirmation he'd seen the guy." Mimzy explained, with a small pout. Alastor ignored her and hummed, wondering if in the years since, if he'd somehow gotten bottom surgery possibly outside of the country, to explain the gap in medical data.

"I think I'd like to meet with him," Alastor said slowly, and Mimzy jumped down.

"Good, because he's waiting in exam room 7."

Alastor entered the room with a smile, his people loved his smile, but the patient looked up at him and grimaced. He didn't look like how Alastor expected, though he wasn't sure what he had expected at all. Adam Yeshvan was tall, taller than Alastor, and about thrice as wide, with stubble that was longest on his chin. His skin tone was medium, his hair was medium brown, and his eyes were a light brown. Apart from his height, he was a generally nondescript American man.

"I'm not crazy," Adam said. It was the first thing he said.

"I don't think you're crazy," Alastor said smoothly, sitting down in a seat across from Adam, who seemed to be fuming on the exam room table. "I'm curious why you think this may have happened, however."

"I..." Adam opened and closed his mouth, glancing to the side. "I don't know, but I feel like you won't believe me if I tell you what happened."

"Try me." Alastor smiled wryly. There were ever so many unbelievable things in life, like the fact his lunch in the hospital staff refrigerator was people.

"...I... accidentally summoned the devil." Adam said lowly, looking cautious. "I was on vacation, back in my grandpa's home country. I found some ruins, and there was some shit written on this stone. It had this little figure on it, wrapped in chains, so I took it to the local museum and they said the script was written in an archaic Hebrew. Look, I know it sounds stupid, you don't have to look at me like that- so, whatever, I took it home, looked up a translation and..." Adam waved a hand at his groin. "Next thing I know, this."

Alastor blinked slowly, trying to process the sheer amount of nonsense. He wasn't one for fairy tales, fiction, or generally make believe silliness. Of course, life could often be strange, Alastor had recently eaten his second grade teacher, but well within a degree of logic and reality. Adam might not have been on drugs, but Alastor figured he probably should be on something. He must have gotten bottom surgery while out of the country, and for whatever reason, was having problems remembering it.

"Well, let's do our best to figure out how to go about this, and how to get you some peace of mind." Alastor said smoothly, moving past all the nonsense Adam had said. "I'd like to run a few more blood panels, just to be safe, and have you talk to a specialist that-"

In that moment, Mimzy threw the door open and handed Alastor a page of test results.

Adam made a face at the interruption, "are those mine? Am I okay?"

Alastor read the page once, twice, thrice, and again and more.

Well.

That's new.

"You're pregnant."

[thisssees]

Nate Jacobs is not gay. He is not a closeted gay man, and the people who think that he is, has missed the point of his character.

His trauma of watching his dad has turned into disgust at the very thought of being gay. We see how extreme his needs for a woman’s appearance has to be for him to admit attraction.

Then, we have Jules, who in season 1 is the most feminine character on the show. She checks of every point of his list, and we know he feels some sort of attraction toward her.

Could he be bisexual? Definitely, and I find that to be very much possible, but he is not gay. He is attracted to Jules, who is a woman.

He is scared, to the point of hurting himself and others, to admit that he could be even the smallest bit like his dad.

If I would go even further than that and armchair diagnose him, I would say he had HOCD. Which stands for Homosexual Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, where a person is essentially to afraid of being or becoming gay (even if that person never felt attracted to someone of the same sex before the intrusive thoughts developed) to the point that they could hurt themselves because of their thoughts, and have rigorous types of compulsions.

This type of OCD (it is not only about being gay, some are ex, deeply afraid that they are attracted to children, even though they are not) is not always consistent with compulsive behavior to the same degree as the more commonly known one.

It’s more consistent with isolation, hurting themselves and avoiding any type of contact with the object/s of the intrusive thoughts. As Nate does by absolutely refusing to look at another penis in the locker room, because he is simply so afraid that he will be attracted to the sight.

It is also worth nothing that he has very compulsive behavior, especially when it comes to his training, that is also rooted in his father.

Honestly, Nate Jacobs is an incredible character, and I’m tired of people being so blinded by their disgust at his actions to see how well developed he is, especially in season 1.

He is, in my opinion, one of the better representations of a character who went through sexual trauma and abuse as a child. This does not mean that he is a representation of every person that has been abused as a child, but he is a great example of how a person might become, especially if they are under control of the source of the abuse.

There are so many small things to notice as well. Like his apparent disgust at his mother, where a lot of people say it’s only misogyny. I do think that plays a part in him looking down on her, but not in his genuine resentment.

He think she is weak, and only goes along with what his father says.

Further on his mom, we see her explain how he was a sweet, and actually very empathetic as a child. Then, something changed, and even as a child that was seen clearly. A sudden change in behavior, in the way she tells us Nate did, is actually extremely common in abused children.

His reaction when he saw his dad on top of him in the mirror is also such a great scene, and telling of his mental state. He is so afraid of the thought of what his dad will do, or perhaps not even that, but so haunted by the memories that he is willing to put his well being at great risk through harm.

I also don’t think people understand the gravity of his reaction, and what it tells us about his relationship with his father.

What he did was so harmful he could have put his very life at risk. He is 6’5 and made of muscle, and used all his force to beat the back of his head to the floor, which could have become fatal. At the very least, a severe concussion.

What does Cal do? What does he do when his son puts his well-being, and even life at risk? He locks himself away and ignores it. A good parent would have called 911, and Nate, in my opinion, would have been admitted on a 72 hour hold due to putting his life at risk.

Cal cared more about his feelings, his shame, and his image to actually prioritize his son’s health and well being. He knows he is to blame, but he refuses to help him.

[ohbo-ohno]

Hear me out: micro-penis!Soap

Almost nothing changes, he is still extremely confident and cocky. But now he's even more focused on getting Ghosts dick bc it's not like he can fuck anyone with that tiny thing and masturbating when your pinky is thicker than your length is really fucking difficult.

It makes it possible for him to wear the tightest pants imaginable though. After all, it doesn't hurt his crotch area. He prefers shopping in the women's clothing section because they have the best pants to make his ass look good and there is so much variation.

He can't pee while standing - hard to direct the stream when the one finger you are holding your dick with is covering your pee hole (also ideal for puppy!Soap) - and there are no condoms that he can use - there is simply not enough length for it to hold on (which means his puppycunt is always leaking).

Makes it real easy to hide when he's aroused in public. Makes it even easier to hide when Ghost makes him cum in his pants with a (purposeful) touch or that look he gets when Soap has been a good boy. Not that it takes much, his tight pants have enough pressure on his small dick to make him cum just from walking around.

Has turned him into a pro in taking humiliation. Is used to the ribbing to downright abuse he gets from other soldiers once they've seen him in the showers. (As the FNG Soap has gone through too many hazings to count, distracting them with his small dick ensures that most of the hazing concentrates on that).

Is so attuned to getting humiliated for it that he is confused when he doesn't get it. Starts prompting for it, continues to desperately downgrade himself.

(Everyone on base knows that Soap has the smallest cock in the country. It's almost synonymous with his name. Soap likes it that way. Likes that everyone knows that for all his cockiness he could never fuck anyone. Loves that every soldier on base knows that he is just a hole waiting to be used. That if they approach him for a hook-up it's no question who is gonna be the bitch)

tbh i LIVE for any kind of dick humiliation - small dick humiliation, big dick humiliation, it's all fun and kinky. but sdh really lends itself to feminization, which is also hot

you made this Consensual (by nature of soap being a freak) which is great & super hot in it's own right and i love to read it, but i am unfortunately sick and nasty and have a bit more fun with this if soap's... not so into it. sorry to take it in that direction!

there's no way soap could hide his dick in the military, it's just not possible. so we are acknowledging it as fact, and disregarding it entirely so we can pretend that ghost wouldn't find out through other soldiers. also everything after this point is super scatterbrained and im so sorry for that lol

(btw.... soap having to sit down to piss... should not be as hot to me as it is, but something about that has me literally shivering)

thinking about ghost finding out about soap's tiny cock and kinda like... blackmailing him with it :/ threatens to tell everyone, both of them knowing that he'd lose so much respect from other soldiers. tells him he might even whore him out if soap can't behave

ghost fucking soap and holding a hand over his cock cause there's nothing to jack off, maybe he's nice and rubs a little like you might a clit, but usually doesn't even bother to give something so little any pleasure :/

ghost putting him in tight tight pants, so tight that it's impossible not to notice that he's either got no dick or a tiny dick. soap whines a little, squirms because the pants are pushing on his dick and he's so fucking hard, and the little tent in his pants just looks like another fold in the leather :/

[popculturebuffet]

For part 2 of that Community ask, favorite episode for the main characters outside the initial Study Group with Chang, Dean, Duncan, Hickey, Frankie, and Elroy?

Chang: Chang's a tough one as as Ken Jong is a great comedic actor.. but they did some weird stuff with him. He was fine for seasons 2 and 3 and hit and miss in season 1, but afterwords they kinda.. had no idea what to do with this guy and wasted a talented performer, with ice cub head being the only thing I can think of his past season 3. Best Chang episode is the one where he gets fired, mostly for him taking a bat to jeff's car and it makring the transition from the sometimes overly cruel spanish teacher to mess.

Dean: Something Dean Pun! Jim Rash is a delight and it's no wonder they upped his role, weird obession with jeff, and apperances as the show went. He's the best. Best they eventually eased off on the stalking jeff gag as it hasn't aged well but otherwise it's a powerhouse performance with a lot of choices. But I gotta go with the obvious one: JESUS WEPT! from season 6. I have a soft spot for that season as you've seen as I watched it on yahoo when it came out originally and it has two now all time faviorite actors, in large part thanks to ducktales for paget). But while there are good dean episodes this one really get sto the core of the guy: His need to feel impressive, his doing so in the dumbest ways possible, and his tendecy to get cared away. And I will NEVER get tired of Jim Rash growling JESUSSS WEPT!.

Duncan: His name his duncan and he's here to sya he's gotta rap big in a rapping way he's got a real big penis and he drinks lots of tea. Duncan was a solid character, mostly helped by his constant lack of fucks given and being played by what would become one of my faviorite comedians, John Oliver. I mean that drunken bit of rapping lives free in my head. (As does his karmic punch to the head from Chang. ). He was a great presence in season 1 and decent in season 2... then vanished for most of the series as John Oliver had other stuff to do.. then came back.. then left again because it was his destiny. I do want to say the season 1 finale.. as a moment that's peak duncan. As an episode though the one from season 5 where he has an elaborate scheme to sleep with britta works. It shows him at his lowest, trying to do something horrible.. and then what little good is left in him not taking advantage of her and helping her. Had Oliver not gone on to make one of the best tv shows of all time, we could've seen omre but alas, fate had other better plans.

Hickey: I got nothing. Jonathan Banks is a good actor. He did his best. But HIckey never quite fit into the study group/save greendale comittee. I wouldnt mind seeing him in the movie, but he just didn't quite fit in the show. Granted that's because I want everyone who isn't chevy back for at least a cameo.. speaking of which.

Frankie: Frankie was a great addition. I do wish they did more with her, as we never really got to know her as a person and she liked it that way, but Paget Brewster was fantastic and added fresh energy to the show as the only adult in the room. That kind of role easily could've been thankless on a show this wacky and written or acted wrong, could've got old fast. Instead frankie was a needed calm in the storm. She needed to grow too, realizing greendale is just a clusterfuck you can't change and to roll with it and is at her best doing that , playing abed as the only person outside his schitck. She and Jim rash also made a great double act with her best episode being the advertising one. Her speech to him calling him so dumb while trying to comfort him is comic gold. Brewster was a welcomea ddition to the study group and I hope they give her a cameo in the movie at the very least.

Elroy: And upping the ante the other addition Elroy was also not given enough time to bake, but I feel they still got their money's worth for one of the greatest actors of all time. I already loved keith david, so Elroy was an easy sell for me. But my god did he eat. From his first epiosde to his last David proved he was the national treasure he is, nicely slotting into the old man slott but like Hickey before him, not being the same as pierece. He had pierce's elderly uncle vibes but instead of your conspiracy loving 4th divorce uncle he's your fun give no fucks second divorce uncle. Pairing his silky voice with rediuclous lines and fun antics keith david really was made for this show and if he's not in the movie because they want to get back to THE CORE it's a damn shame. As for best episode.. that's easy. The easiest choice out of all of these: the wedding episode. Elory's addiction to encouraging white people is such a community concept and David sells it perfectly, with all the satire inherent. And of course we got THAT'S A MAN WHO KNOWS HOW TO MARRY HIS OWN COUSIN!

Side note I just remembered... something I wanted since Ducktales began that sadly didn't come to past was for all the main cast of community, or at least the bulk to guest star. Sadly we only got Yvette, Jim, Pagett , Keith and of course Danny. Apparently getting every member of that cast wasn't a priority for them. But we got some good ones. Also would've loved to see Jenny Slate both because I love her in anything and for obvious ben schwartz shaped reasons.

[the-whumpening]

Meet the Character Monday #3

Ash - Tigerverse (The Caged Tiger, The Freed Tiger, The Pet Tiger)

[Image ID: A sketch of my OC Ash. The drawing is a shoulders-up portrait of Ash smiling and facing to the right side of the screen. As this is supposed to be before The Caged Tiger, his hair is shoulder-length and he is uninjured. His left eye is blank as if clouded by a cataract. He is shirtless and his muscles are clearly visible. The whole piece is done in shades of orange. /End ID]

(Ash smiling! Wow! Yes, it's possible! This drawing is representative of what he looked like right before his capture: happy, healthy, without major scars, but after he lost his stripes/tail/ears.)

Basic Info:

Name: Moss Pelt (Ash) Catteau

Age: 26(ish)

Birthday: Spring? (Aries) Ash doesn't know his specific birth date

Height: 6' 4" (193 cm)

Hair: Black

Eyes: Green

Favorite Color: Green or orange

Gender ID and Orientation: Is very comfortable as a man but has never thought about it (much more concerned about his status as human vs beast), is attracted to both men and women but once again never put much thought into it. If it needed a label, he might say he’s “my partner”-sexual. While I also wouldn’t call him “poly” per se, he’s not strictly monogamous in the traditional human way.

Pronouns: He/him (never, ever “it”)

Other: accidental autistic rep (oops), tiger-human hybrid creature

What's Ash's role in the story? Ash is a human(ish) barbarian and the protagonist of the Tigerverse series. He is the current partner of Evius, who was previously romantically involved with Ash’s whumper: Ozmund Greenthorn. Ash was originally created as a character for an ongoing DnD campaign, though the stories on this blog mostly divert from the canon of that game.

Fun Facts about Ash:

Due to his tiger heritage and upbringing, Ash can communicate with cats and (with some effort) most other animals. He’s also picked up bits and pieces of other languages based on whomever he interacts with most (including a little Elven from Kane and Infernal from Evius).

Ash, like all tigers, is red-green colorblind. He only learned this after being with the party for some time—he didn’t realize he had orange fur. In fact, Evius’ coppery tiefling skintone doesn’t look much different to Ash than his human disguise. He can, however, distinguish shades of blue and yellow. (I’m just now realizing he probably doesn’t realize Mouse’s hair is pink. Bummer.)

Even in his human form, Ash has heightened animal-like senses which often overwhelm him. For that reason, he tends to dislike crowded areas and sticks close to Evius or Kane in the city.

He does not have a barbed penis, but man do we love to joke about it lol

His intelligence is kind of paradoxical. He didn’t have any formal education, and just about everything he knows about the “civilized” world came from Kane, so he’s not exactly “book-learned.” But, for the same reasons, he doesn’t have a lot of social knowledge either. His intellect is mostly centered around his knowledge of the natural world and survival, as well as his keen skills of observation and problem-solving. When his intelligence increased from the mindflayer tadpole, it mostly just made it easier for him to learn things and put concepts together; it didn’t impart any factual knowledge on him. Almost like he had ADHD and got adderall for the first time lol

That being said, he did become more aware of all the social rules he hadn’t noticed or cared about before. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed at being seen nude because now he could put together that not everyone was as comfortable as him and that most people felt some amount of shame about nudity. It also helped him finally connect the pieces that his attraction to Evius wasn’t just platonic.

Hilarious corollary: Hsa (what the tadpole named itself) has experienced the world through Ash since it was implanted. Meaning, it has felt everything Ash has felt and seen everything he’s seen. It knows all his thoughts and feelings. It has seen aaallll of Ash and Evius’ . . . interactions.

Biggest Secret: Ash would love to have a big family and lots of babies. He’s even fantasized about being pregnant—he’s still a little shaky on exactly how humanoid biology works. (And Evius’ player has forbidden me from writing mpreg fanfic boooo)

[erigold13261]

May have asked this before but… are Eri, Ilia, Ada (by extension Eloni, Brute? (Sorry I don’t know his name) and… Asa) going to be on the curses’ side of the conflict?

You got his name right! It's Brute! :D (and this has actually not been asked before!)

And this is probably a spoiler, but it will be a long time to get there so I'll just say it, but no.

The only one who will be on the Curses' side will be Ilia (and he will try to get them to let certain humans without powers live, like Asa).

The others, once they realize what the Curses and others are doing, are going to be fucking horrified. Well, Brute won't be horrified, but he's not gonna want to join the Curses.

Ada and Eri have reservations towards humans because of their treatment from humans (they, with Ilia, were memory experiments to see how implanted memories effect robots. Something that was never studied when it was going on during the Border Wars). So they aren't happy with humans, but don't want to actually cause harm to humans at all.

Brute doesn't care for humans, even dislikes a lot of them, but doesn't want to go around hurting them. He used to when he worked under Vandelay, but now he wants to just chill and stay away from humans (trying to get him and Ada to Robot City to try and minimize the interactions with humans).

And Eloni literally fought in a war to help humans. He, and most of the other 1010, have been trying to upgrade themselves to be indistinguishable from humans with biotech. There is no justification that the Curses could provide that would ever get Eloni on board with what the Curses are doing. If anything, she is going to just play along so that she can be a source of information to the people who need it that are fighting back (militaries and Psychonauts).

Asa wouldn't even be given the option to join their side at first. He is a human without powers or any tech, and so is seen as one of the options to turn. The only reason he isn't is because Ilia likes him too much and Hanami wants to please them. Otherwise, Asa would already have been changed by Mahito and possibly died (I mean, it also helps that Asa is Peni's cousin and Peni was friends with Suguru, but that fact would have come out too late if Ilia didn't vouch for Asa at first).

The whole thing with the Curses is absolutely going to cause a rift between Ilia and the rest of his friends. He sees this as a great opportunity for robots to be given a leg up in the world, as well as save the world from collapse. However, none of the rest actually believe in the world's end or that this will helps robots. Only that this plan is going to kill possibly millions of humans who can't get tech or can't survive the transifurgation and/or powerification process.

So, for now, it is just going to be Ilia joining the Curses (though that isn't to say the Curses won't still try to get other people on their sides, or that those people won't accept or at least entertain the idea).

[doberbutts]

Your post abt how male victim sa is treated as a joke in media really resonates w/ me. like i dont watch drama tv shows, i watch like sitcom/comedy stuff and so its extra apparent to me in a way?

Because while in a drama tv show you can have both male and female sa victims, sitcoms will rarely if ever try to make jokes about female sa (or at least now anyway, i dont watch older sitcoms) they absolutely do make male sa jokes.

For example, in Parks and Rec theres this episode where April and Andy make a lot of doctors appointments in one day and in one part Andy is listing out all the doctors they've seen and Andy says like "One guy looked at my weiner, touched it, that was weird" and April says "And that guy wasn't even a doctor" and Andy says "...What" with an uncomfortable look on his face and then it just moves on.

And its supposed to be a funny haha moment but everytime I see that clip I get really uncomfortable bc like its never clarified if she was kidding or not but also why would you joke abt your husband being sa'd???

And thats just one example, theres plenty of others. (The whole thing with Barney and Rhonda French in HIMYM makes me super uncomfortable even tho its played as consensual, it gives me bad vibes)

But it feels like no one ever really cares to talk abt it, so it was nice to see someone bring it up. Sorry for the long ask 😅

The comedy I watch is normally yes about equal to Parks and Rec or Brooklyn 99 and yes, there's a lot of jokes that fly under the radar because they victimize one group or another that isn't seen as "in danger". The amount of prison rape and prostate exam (hinthint wink wink not performed by a doctor though teehee) jokes really stand out the more you pay attention to it. And maybe it IS time to pay attention to it, because clearly this is a symptom of a bigger issue, one that endangers everyone.

Going back to stuff I watch more of because I haven't seen more than a clip or two of HIMYM, but I remember when I was watching Buffy with my ex [then boyfriend] and he pointed out that Xander had a really good reason not to like Faith and it's because Faith rapes him (forced to penetrate) and how Xander really... never seemed to forgive her for it and always seemed uncomfortable around her after. And while I was not part of the fandom during the show's heyday, being that I am a relatively recent watcher only maybe about 6 or 7 years ago, he told me it was very frustrating to him that the fandom seemed to focus more on the wrongdoing of Spike's *attempt* to rape Buffy, than the *actual rape* Faith did to Xander.

Even with my Witcher example, I'm seeing people shipping Yennefer and Jaskier because they had a moderately improved friendship in season two, while not at ALL touching on the fact that Jaskier's first memory of her is a blatant sexual assault and maybe that's why he's increasingly aggressive to her every time they see each other for the remainder of season one and when seeing her again in season two. It's more than "he's somewhat jealous of her closeness with Geralt" when I know for a fact she pinned and grabbed him by the penis and I wouldn't fault anyone for not liking someone who grabbed their genitals without consent. I'm not yucking anyone's yum but it's really frustrating to me to see people skate right by that.

(again, books/games fans who follow/reblog, your faves are not immune, I present to you one Triss Merigold who rapes *Geralt himself* by means of a love potion in the books and who does it *again* in the games if you let her manipulate Geralt into sleeping with her when he has amnesia, do not even start with 'wehweh this is why the show sucks' when your favorite adaption did it too and Triss/Geralt is a possible romance path in the third game, AND Yennefer is mad at Geralt for... letting Triss rape him while they were together, because she considers it cheating, if you talk to her about it in the third game she dumps you in the lake to punish you for defending yourself)

Big sigh.

[zeenmrala]

Goodnight, and Goodbye - Kit Fisto x Reader

Summary: After weeks of assisting you with your planet’s involvement in the Clone Wars, he has made a success of his mission, and Kit Fisto must now return to Coruscant. But you cannot possibly let him go without confessing the truth of your affection for him.

Pairing: Kit Fisto x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Rating: Explicit - this work is 18+ due to sexual content. Minors, DO NOT INTERACT.

CW/TW: AFAB!reader, brief references to canon-typical violence, alien sex/alien penis, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, f!receiving oral sex, unprotected PiV sex.

Notes: I am just head over heels for this gorgeous green man. This is my first time writing for him! You can also read this fic on AO3 ♡

Goodnight, and Goodbye

As you watch the setting sun, you think over the events of the past few weeks – and what a whirlwind of danger and dramatics they have been. You have seen more blaster fire and destruction than you could have ever possibly imagined. And it all happened so fast. So rapidly, that before you were able to even fully process it, you could do nothing but look on in horror as the brutality of Count Dooku and his Separatist regime tore your world apart.

Like many others in the galaxy, the Clone Wars have permanently altered the course of your life. You were fortunate that your people and planet were swiftly defended with reinforcements by the Republic, but as rapid as their response was, as competent and efficient as they were in your defence…there were still far too many fatalities. You do not believe you will ever be able to fathom such loss of innocent life. That though the bloodshed is apparently over for now on your planet, and that in the long-term this was a quick and successful win for the Republic – even with the victory, you feel a void. You feel different. Such violence, it changes a person. You know that you will never be the same again.

And yet, in the face of such terror and in spite of the horror and cruelty of war that you have lived and witnessed over the past few weeks – you have also experienced something else. Something unexpected. Something much more kind, warm and curious.

For you find yourself somewhat infatuated with your protector. Jedi Master Kit Fisto is like no one you have ever met before. He is a sight to behold – a Nautolan of a towering height, with skin the most beautiful shade of green. He boasts a strong brow (which due to his cheerful nature, is seldom furrowed), and his chiselled face houses deep black eyes, a small sharp nose and a gleaming smile which he loves to flash in your direction. His tendrils fall effortlessly graceful behind his head, though two of them usually drape over the front of his shoulders. You have caught yourself (on more than one occasion) dreamily watching as they sway with each of his movements. It is no surprise you have developed a crush on him, you try and justify to yourself. He is a very handsome man – and who wouldn’t be seduced by someone with such charming wit? He is also an experienced and skilled warrior. You are consistently mesmerised when seeing him in action. Each time you have got a glimpse of him fighting, the scene is almost always framed between the helmets of the clone troopers who are ordered to whisk you away to safety. The memory of such an event bleeds into existence before you now, his large frame twirling and twisting, using his glowing, green blade to deflect and ricochet blaster bolts with ease, crushing droids and slicing them apart. He moves so exquisitely, so smooth and refined in your defence, finessing the hilt of his lightsaber as if he were solely designed for combat. You remember one specific battle vividly because of how he touched you afterwards. After such an impressive display of defensive destruction, after being so physically strong and relentless in his fighting – he was  tender with you, his touch gentle and soft. He brushed his large, green fingers across your small human hand, and the touch was so dizzying that your stomach lurched with a sweet feeling of lightness. You remember being unable to stop thinking about how his skin had such a different texture to your own, about how vast the differences between the two of you were. About how you wanted him to touch you again. It did not take long for your attraction to grow. After spending more and more time with the Jedi General, you soon began to find that your heart was racing not due to the imminent danger, but due to his close proximity to you. You find that your breath hitches when he says your name, when he directs his attention solely on you, a warmth floods your chest. You find your skin ablaze with anticipation whenever he brushes past you, his touch alighting sparks of excitement – and desire. He stands beside you now on the balcony of your chambers, the same way he has done every evening since he arrived. He must have quickly sensed that you were comforted by his presence, and took it upon himself to keep you company each evening during his short time here – if only to ease your nerves. You cannot help but consider, as you usually do, that maybe your attraction is reciprocated. Maybe. And as always, you quickly brush away such wishful thinking. You look over at him and flick your eyes over his large frame. Short bands of leather adorn each his long tentacle-tresses, which flow so elegantly from his head. His traditional Jedi robes suit him, a slightly high neck tunic beneath them, and armour that plates his lower arms. You smile. He is a good person – he is loyal, determined and optimistic. He is laid-back, with deep running compassion and virtue. His sense of humour never fails to get you smiling and laughing. He comforts you and makes you feel safe. And he is leaving in the morning.

You swallow down a dejected sigh. To comfort yourself, you instead think back to the day when he first came here. How he joined you in this exact spot, under the light of the setting sun, and you watched it dip below the horizon together. You were so frightened. Overwhelmed and entirely out of your depth, thrust into a position of leadership you did not want, in a war you wanted no part in. You remember how, in utter despair, you allowed the tears to freely fall down your face. You expressed how devastating it was to watch your planet burn before you, how you felt so powerless to stop it. He listened to each word, and proceeded to advise and comfort you. He told you to hold on to the image of your world free from destruction. That you should focus on it, work towards it, with hope and determination. He told you that one night soon, you would both watch the sun set on a planet no longer ravaged by violence. Broken and hopeless, you did not believe him.

Yet here you are now, doing exactly that.

He speaks with sincerity. “You have come so far, and shown such courage. Your people will never forget it.”

You shake your head. “I had no choice. And I was entirely unprepared,” you admit.

“Are any of us ever prepared for the atrocities of war?”

Such a formal reply, you think, such a Jedi thing to say. You do not respond, your eyes stay fixed on the sun as it lazily drops lower and lower in the sky. Eventually he speaks again.

“You could have chosen to leave, like most of the other politicians. You could have chosen to abandon the fate of your world to strangers and their soldiers. But you decided to stay. Yes, you were out of your depth, perhaps entirely unprepared as you have said. Even so, you did it anyway,” he says. “You not only survived, but you overcame. You lead your people through it, when no one else was willing.” He pauses. “You are very brave.”

You nod and smile softly. “Master Fisto, I want to take a moment to thank you, personally,” you say, and he starts to shake his head, ever modest and honourable. “You have changed my life. Saved it numerous times. Saved the lives of the people of this planet. I cannot express how truly, immensely grateful I am for how you have assisted us over the past few weeks.”

He looks at you with a gracious nod, and his lips tug into a humble smile. “I must admit, that I could not have succeeded without you,” he says. You look up at him, and though you are used to his joking and his playfulness, you are almost in disbelief that he would tease you in this way, by saying something so ridiculous – but he is looking down at you with such sincerity and fondness, that you understand he is being truthful. Your breath hitches as you meet his eyes – his gaze is affectionate, and it suddenly feels far too intimate much too quickly – that you cannot hold it for much longer. You feel your cheeks begin to burn as your line of sight quickly flickers across the sharp features of his face. You then look back towards the setting sun. Your final day together is almost completely lost to your final night.

He could not have succeeded without you? He must be attempting to do you a kindness, surely. Providing you with one more reassurance, a few, last words of comfort before he leaves for good. There is no doubt in your mind that he would have succeeded here without you – for he is so strong, so determined. There is nothing he could not do, you believe. Stars, yes, he is most definitely capable of anything. As you focus your attention on the darkening horizon, you can still feel his deep eyes drinking you in. It sends a sharp, delicious heat through your core – knowing that he is still watching you. That he cannot seem to take his eyes off of you. You have caught him looking at you in this way on multiple occasions over your time together, and when you snap your head around to catch him in the act, there is a moment where you can identify the pure, ardent desire that burns in his expression. The most brief of moments, for he immediately hides any evidence of such longing behind a daring smile. He shoots you a witty comment or two, changes the subject. But you swear to the Maker that you see it. Even if it is so brief that you have often wondered if you just imagine it. If you are just seeing what you wish to see. You sigh quietly, and close your eyes. Can you bring yourself to ask him? To confess to him the truth? It seems fruitless. He is a Jedi Master. The war may be at a temporary end for you and your people, but it will wage on and on for him. But those stolen moments, those yearnful looks, the way he says your name with such sentiment… Even if it is pointless, even if you are setting yourself up for embarrassment – could you really live with never knowing? The sun sets. The day is over. Your time together is fleeting, and the truth of such brevity makes the decision for you. This may be your final chance to ever find out the truth. It is time, you decide. You cannot possibly allow him to leave in the morning without addressing it. And after everything - what do you have left to lose? “I must also disclose to you a more…personal concern.”

He is silent, his attention entirely focused on what you have to say. You pause. “Our flirtation.”

He grins widely then, his teeth forming a sweet shock of a white smile. “Oh. What about it?”

You take a deep breath, and you feel your cheeks burn with heat, your nerves starting to get the better of you. “It comes to an end tomorrow.” You say it quietly. Though you have accepted his position as a Jedi Master, though you have thought over the fate of your relationship and have come to terms with the reality of it over and over again – that anything deeper than a brief dalliance is impossible – you still cannot prevent the disappointment that tinges your voice.

He nods, his hands clasped behind his back. “Indeed.”

“Master Fisto,” you say, and nervous, cautious enthusiasm coats your every word. “I could not stand it if we did not discuss the unspoken truth of what has developed between us. If we refuse to explore it, however brief, with what time we have left.” His expression is curious, and he only tilts his head, intrigued as to what you will say next. “All I have been able to think about lately, is that despite the horrific circumstances of how we have been brought together…We have come together. In a way that is wonderful.” You pause, trying to think of the right way to word it. Maker, how can you make this make sense? “We have been blessed enough to exist at the same time as one another. That alone is a gift. But to have formed a connection in this way, to have…whatever it is that we have. That in a universe of trillions and trillions of lives across thousands and millions of years, across the vastness of our galaxy...here we are.” He replies softly. “I agree with your sentiment.” He moves closer to you, his hand now in such close proximity to your own – to your fingers that grip the railing of the balcony so tightly with anxiety, both nervous and hopeful. After a momentary silence he continues to speak. “The fact that we are standing here together, and have been every day for the past few weeks – it is indeed a great stroke of fortune. Our…flirtation.” He grins as he quotes you. “It has been the only sweetness in a sea of sorrow.”

“So you understand what I am trying to express?” You ask, slightly apprehensive. He nods in response, and his face softens with each word you speak. “You can see why then, that I do not want to sacrifice this – whatever it may be – without addressing it. Without at least acknowledging such a…blessing.” He does not reply, though his face is an exquisite portrait of calm. You have no idea what he is thinking.

“I do not know how it is for you, of course. But I must tell you, that it is a rarity for me. Master Fisto –” “If we are having this conversation,” he says with a smile, “then please, call me Kit.” You smile back at him, “Kit,” you hesitate. His smile becomes a smirk.

“This is all entirely new to me,” you admit with a sigh, embarrassment slowly creeping into your chest at your own candidness. “I know that you will leave in the morning, and I will never again lay eyes on you.” He finally brushes his fingers against your own. The touch is instantly dizzying. You gasp softly, and your eyes flicker to the railing, to confirm that this is really happening. “S-so, before you go…” you say, “I must confess the true extent of my feelings.” He slips your hand beneath his. Maker. “I must tell you that I have never before felt such a severe yearning for somebody,” you finally admit. You hear him release a breath, and you do not know if he is relieved or exasperated. Either way, there is no going back now, so you persevere, the truth finally spilling from your lips. “Never before. Not how I yearn for you, Master Jedi. You are a remarkable person, in every aspect that I know you. I am fond of you, your strength, your resolve, your charm – I am fond of everything about you.” You pause. “And I find you handsome. The most handsome man I have ever seen.” He cannot help but grin at that. You keep talking before you lose your nerve. “Master Fi- Kit. I must ask, if only to indulge my own curiosity, to comfort my own pride. Over our brief time together…have you grown to see me in a similar light?” You try not to outwardly cringe, though you do gently shake your head in disbelief at how vulnerable you are being. That you are asking a Jedi Master such things, that you are asking him such things. “I understand the restrictions of your way of life, and that it may be selfish of me to ask such a thing. And I am sorry for it, but I have to know – is this attraction unreciprocated? Have I deceived myself? Have all the moments that we have stolen together, times when formality and business does not require our being with one another, was it only ever platonic in nature? Those times when you look at me for a moment longer than you need to, when I catch the briefest of longing in your eyes – is that real? Or is it a trick of my own brain? The times when you knock into me, when your skin so purposely brushes against mine, were all of those times accidental? Is our never ending game of verbal wit and flirtation only that, a game?” You squeeze your eyes shut. “Kit, am I entirely delusional in believing that you hold a level of attraction for me?”

He shakes his head. He takes both of your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “No. Darling, I have wanted nothing more than to take you into my arms since the moment I first laid my eyes on you.” You are stunned. You do your best to not let your jaw drop to the floor.   “But it is no easy feat for a man of my position to admit such a truth,” he adds. “I can only apologise if my lack of transparency has caused you any anguish.” You are unable to form words. You did not know what you were expecting, but this reassurance that you are not delusional is enough alone to momentarily silence you. You pull a hand free to cover your mouth, in slight shock. He likes you back. You feel like a giddy young teenager, ecstatic over such a sweet revelation. A hearty chuckle falls from his lips. “My dear, I myself must now confess. I have known of your feelings for some time.” You are startled out of your speechlessness, and slightly embarrassed, you raise a brow in question. “Was it that obvious?” He chuckles and points to his tendrils. “I could sense it from you.”

Oh, Stars. His tendrils, of course. He can sense pheromones and use them understand your emotional state. How did you ever think he didn’t know? “Of course, I would never have said anything about it, if you had not taken the liberty of letting me know.” He pauses. “So I am grateful for your honesty. For saying what I couldn’t.”

There is a pause. And it seems as though he is making a decision.

“I am flattered,” he smirks, “and pleased that my...” he pauses, and you realise he is searching for the right way to phrase it. “That my interest is reciprocated. But you must understand,” he continues sympathetically, “that I will leave tomorrow. Nothing can change that. I will leave and will most likely never return.” He rests gentle fingers on your left cheek, tenderly holding your face.

“I do understand, Master Jedi,” you eventually say, purposefully. Both of you are fully aware of these unique circumstances, though neither of you pulls away. So you rest one of your hands on top of his. “I have long ago accepted our predicament. I do not ask of you anything I know that you cannot give.”

He pulls you into his arms. You melt into his warmth, his solid, strong frame holding you tightly against his chest. You inhale the scent of him. You indulge in how small and fragile you feel in his arms, yet at the same time aware of how safe and protected you are. “I can give you tonight,” he eventually says, his tone husky. You pull back to look up at him. “If that is all you can give me, it is all I will ever need,” you reply. And then he kisses you. It is hot, frantic and greedy. His arms snake around you, a hand through your hair, an arm around your waist. You lean into the contact, going on your tip-toes to push your lips harder into his. Your hands rest on his hard chest, your fingers already gripping at the material of his robes, just itching to tear off his clothes. The hand in your hair falls to your neck, then caresses your face. You delight at the feel of his large, leathery fingers, and as he moves them across your skin, you notice the roughness of his hands, as callused as you would expect of a master swordsman like him. His tongue dips into your mouth, and you lap at it with your own, running your hands up to hold his face.

You keep the kiss going, more desperate with each second that passes, and soon you are both pulling at each other’s clothes, and this is happening. You feel that sweet heat pool under your belly button as his touch moves beneath your shoulders, and as his huge hands run over your breasts, you gasp lightly. You need him, now. He smiles into your kiss, sensing your desire, and you quickly pull away from him to grab one of his broad arms and lead him inside.

You are kissing again, and it seems neither of you can stop now that you have started. His lips are a lot softer than you were expecting, and his tongue much more wet and hard than a human one. It feels so good in your mouth, and the strength of it makes you shudder with lust at the idea of what else he can do with it – and you suddenly feel the flood of your own wetness between your legs. He groans deeply as you run gentle fingers up the length of his tendrils, then settle your hands back on his chest. He trails his lips down the column of your neck, and as you pull at his robes, trying to reveal more of his skin, you notice the sharpness of his teeth as he grazes his fangs across your throat. With a teasing chuckle, he then sweeps you up in his arms, and you wrap yourself around him, your legs around his waist, your arms around his tresses. You greedily kiss him as he moves you to your bedroom, and there is so much of him that you want to touch and hold and caress. Stars, you have barely just begun and already you cannot get enough of him. He lays you down on your bed, then steps back at the foot of the sleeper to look at you. You lie beneath him, watching with hungry eyes as he slowly, wordlessly, removes the belt at his waist. He shrugs off his robe. He keeps his eyes fixed on you, and as he pulls off his tunic you lean forward, wanting only to be closer to him. You finger the neckline of your own shirt and slowly begin to undo it. He throws his clothes to floor, and now shirtless, he takes a moment to relish in the sight of you beneath him, watching intently as you throw aside your top and fully sit up. You are in complete awe of his defined chest, it is littered with the same small, circular markings that pepper his tendrils – they look like the Nautolan equivalent of freckles. You want to put your lips on each one of them, trail your tongue across the planes of his strong torso, taste his skin, worship him with kisses.

As you move to do just that, to touch and kiss at his exposed skin, he stops you by taking your chin in a large hand, tilting your eyes back up to his. “Beautiful,” he says, a faint smile pulling at his lips. You smile back at him, your cheeks beginning to warm at such a compliment. You tilt your face into his hand to kiss his palm. You close your eyes, then use both of your hands to take his wrist and move him so you can kiss his fingertips. You inhale gently, and he softly whines at such affection. When you flutter open your eyes, you see raw, carnal longing painted across his features. You remove your hands from his wrist, and he runs the point of his index finger across your lips gently. He slightly dips it into the warmth behind your teeth, and feeling bold, you suck him further into your mouth and lap your tongue around him. He groans a sharp, needy hiss and automatically reaches deeper into your mouth, teasing your throat. You moan, focusing only on the taste and feel of his skin, looking into the lusty gaze of his wide, black eyes. Then he pulls his hand back, and his finger is removed with a wet popping sound. “I cannot stand it anymore,” he mutters, entirely captivated by your movements as you bring your fingers to unravel the wrap on your chest. “What’s that?” You ask innocently, letting the material fall to bed, so your breasts are now bare and exposed for him. He releases a shaky sigh, and drags his fingers in a feather-light touch down your legs. It causes a shock of heat to flare between your thighs. “I want you,” he confesses. He then reaches up and out, and gently pushes your shoulders so you lay flat on the bed. Then he moves forward, bringing himself down on top of you. His weight is so comforting and makes you so hot, and as you feel his tendrils lay around and against you, he whispers into your mouth, “I need you.” “Have me,” you say, opening your legs and encouraging him to slip between them.

He does, and you fold your legs around him. He grinds into you, and then you feel it. His cock, big and hard – it strains against the material of his pants, and he rubs it into your aching cunt. You shiver, and moan as you feel him. He groans back, already able to feel your wet heat, even between each other’s clothing. He teases you again with a slow thrust, and the hard weight of his cock makes you feel so desperate. You want to see it, need to see it, hold it, taste it. Take it. Stars, you want to take all of him. He kisses at your jawline, down your neck, across your collarbone and your chest, and then down to your breasts. He takes one into his mouth, tongue lapping eagerly at your nipple. They both harden, and he brings his big fingers to pinch and play with them. He moans with his kisses, teasing his tongue and teeth across them, squeezing them. His tendrils brush up against you with each movement, and the gentle touch of them combined with the wet heat of his mouth causes you to writhe in pleasure. His mouth lingers on your breasts, but his large hands stray lower and lower, until his fingers dip into the waistline of your trousers and your panties, and in one, swift movement, he pulls them from your body and throws them to the floor. Then with clear reluctance to abandon them, he releases your breasts from his kisses to lean back on his knees, to take in the sight of you naked. He smirks down at you, and you can sense from that smile alone that there are many sweet, filthy things he wants to do to you. You grin back, though your eyes do not stay on his for too long, as you cannot help but flick your line of sight down to the shadow of his cock, straining against the material of his pants. Stars, he really is huge. The shape is similar to that of your own kind, but you can tell it will be at least slightly different. You do not know what to expect, and that makes it all the more exciting. Your mouth begins to water.

“I have often wondered what you taste like,” he confesses, his hand traces down your stomach slowly, then his fingers dance down your pubis, each touch feels so electric – jolts of heat zap through the folds between your thighs. He cups his hand and then cradles your aching cunt. You gasp, and then he groans as you grind down on to his palm and he feels how wet you are for him already. “I would like to find out.”

“Please,” you say, the idea alone already threatening to send you over the edge.

He lowers his face to your neck, and inhales the scent of your hair, of you, deeply. Then his lips begin the slow, sensual journey to your sex. As he laps at the skin of your neck, his tendrils brush against your breasts, and your nipples keen into them, hard and desperate. His kisses on your throat are wet and chaotic, and become more and more wild the further down your body he is. When he reaches your breasts, he nips at your soft flesh with his fangs, sucking at your nipples. You arch your back, your body greedy for more, wanting to be as close to the bliss of his mouth as you can be. His tongue trails down your torso, and he gets lower, lower, lower…

When he gets to the top of your legs, he groans, nuzzling his nose down between your thighs, just to the side of your cunt. He plants gentle kisses there, peppers them so lightly on the inside of your thigh – and you want him so badly it hurts, you absolutely ache for him, and he is so intoxicatingly close –

“Mmmm,” he groans, his warm breath further teasing your sex, “I can sense how badly you want this...” You mewl out a desperate whimper in agreement, and run your fingers over his tendrils gently. He curses, and his hands quickly move to your thighs, and he parts them as wide as you can go, so you are fully bare and open to him. He takes in the sight of your slit, already so drenched and hot for him. “Patience, sweetheart,” he says quietly. You whine, leaning up on your hands so you can look down at him. His large, green head between your thighs, his tendrils draped over and beneath your legs – Stars, it’s an exquisite view, and you can hardy bear it anymore. “Kit, please,” you say, “please, please.” He hums approvingly as you use his name, and then places the lightest kiss you have ever felt on your sex. You moan loudly, throwing your head back, your nerves on fire with anticipation. Stars, you have never needed anything more than this, than for his tongue to taste you, for him to be inside of you. And, oh Maker, you know that you never will again. You never have and never will want anything more than you want this, right now. He shifts, and then you realise that oh kriff, he can sense that. And as if that is what he has been waiting for, as though he has been teasing you, grooming you into hitting this peak of desperation – with a playful groan, he finally takes your wetness into his mouth.

It is beyond anything you have ever experienced before. His tongue is strong and fast, and the way he works you is entirely euphoric. You collapse back into the bed, your back arching, your moans loud and uncontrolled. He immerses himself in your cunt, as if his entire purpose is to pleasure you, to lap up your wetness with his tongue and feast on you. You instinctively try to close your legs around him, to grind down onto him, but he is strong and keeps them parted. He wants full access. He wants you bare, raw, aching.

Maker. You slide your hands down into his tresses, holding them tightly. Your body rejoices beneath his lips, and as his tough tongue gently circles your clitoris, it does not take much time before you feel the sweet call of a climax – you moan loudly, and he releases your legs from his grasp, instead pulling them over his shoulders and holding on to your hips. You grind into his mouth, squeezing his large head between your thighs. You reach for his hand and grip on to him, trying to use him to anchor yourself before you become undone. He moves his tongue faster, sensing your imminent release. Stars, you have never felt so good. Then it happens, a sweet white-hot climax swarms across your lower body and you gasp in air desperately as the scalding, blissful orgasm envelops you. Suddenly any and all tension within you melts into nothing, and you lie there panting frantic moans with the heavy rise and fall of your chest, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin. And he just keeps going through it all, with a constant, consistent pace, never stalling or stopping, entirely captivated in your wet heat. As you mewl through the after-shocks of your orgasm, you eventually find the energy to lean up and look at him. Seeing him between your legs again, so driven in his task, so committed to your pleasure – it rekindles that hot, desperate lust, and you suddenly want nothing more than him in his entirety, for him to bury himself deep inside you, to stretch you out, to fully connect with you. “Please, Kit, I want you,” you moan in a broken, orgasm-struck voice. He hums in agreement, his mouth still busy in your folds – though he is slower, using gentle, languid strokes of his tongue on you as you recover from your frenzy. He lazily teases a finger at your entrance and you gasp as he pushes into you. You reply with encouraging moans, unable to form the words of how perfect this feels. His tongue continues to lap up your taste, the finger of one hand dipping into you, his other hand rests back on your inner thigh, holding you open for him to feast on and play with. He begins a slow rhythm, and it feels so good that you cannot help but feel inpatient, craving more, wanting him to fill you entirely, wanting his weight back on top of you. “Darling, I know, I know you want me to take you now,” he says sympathetically, crooning his finger inside of you. “But I need to prepare you,” he smirks, “trust me.” He takes his mouth away from you for a moment and leans up to look at you, then flashes his familiar grin and winks. You cannot help but smile and huff a giggle.

He soon returns his attention and lips to your now dripping cunt, relentless with his kisses, his tongue. He uses his fingers on you for a while, one, then two, then three – time slips past you as you lose yourself to the feel of his hands and his mouth. Another orgasm eventually takes you by surprise, and as those hot volts of gratification shoot through you, Stars you think, you did not know it was possible to experience pleasure like this. Eventually you are able to recover from your intense peak, but you are once again wracked with lust for him – and this time, you really need him. Badly.

He slowly comes to a stop, and then leans backward onto his knees. He groans at seeing you splayed out beneath him, overcome with lust – so beautiful and needy. He runs strong fingers across your skin, planting a trail of gentle kisses all the way down your legs and then stands. He finally pulls off the rest of his clothes and then he is before you at the end of the bed, entirely naked. You smile, delighting in seeing him fully, so enamoured by his physical appearance, your body so hungry for him. And of course, your eyes fall to take in his erect cock. It is large, of course. And hard. It is deeper green in colour than the rest of his skin, and he is long, thicker at the base, and it tapers up into the smooth pointed tip of his shaft. Your mouth waters and you bite your lip, feeling that sweet, achy throb blossom to life once more between your legs.

He grins at your reaction. “Enough for you?” he says playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Come here,” you reply. He joins you back on the bed, cradling your face in his hands, locking his lips with yours and using one of his knees to separate your legs. He settles between them, running his hands down your chest, nudging his cock ever so closely to your entrance. Stars this is torture, you think, as you try to grind down onto him. You kiss him harder as he continues to tease himself against your heat. "Please Kit," you whisper. He hums a curse in a strange language, but the sound is soft and comforting. Then he slowly pushes forward and into you, and you both groan in relief as he slips inside. You hold on to him fiercely, gazing into his eyes, whining as he stretches you further and further. It feels so good to finally be so full of him. He is slow as you adjust to his size, and stars – he feels so good, you cannot help the string of needy, pleasurable moans that spill from your lips. The intrusion is welcome, blissful, and he is so firm, much harder than anyone you have ever been with before. He groans too, his face so evident of his pleasure, and eventually, after many soft, intimate thrusts, he bottoms out – he is as far inside of you as you can take him. He curses into your mouth at the sheer delight of finally being within you. “You…” he says softly, then groans as you hike your legs up and around him higher, and he shifts the slightest bit deeper inside. You mewl encouragement for him to please move, to please take you. He begins a more rapid momentum, moving in and out of you at an increasingly gorgeous pace. “You feel unbelievable,” he whispers.

You smile into his lips, and between breathy moans, you ask, “Mmm, in a good way?”

“Oh darling, so good,” he confirms, planting a peck on the corner of your mouth. You purr in agreement, and as he becomes more confident in your comfort and pleasure, he begins to really move, his hips snap into you harder, he puts more of his weight on top you. His physical strength and stamina translates to an incessant, dreamy rhythm. His large tendrils hang around the two of you like a curtain, swaying with his movements.

After you are truly stretched out and have adapted to his size, he pulls you up so you are on top of him. And stars, you have never felt so full. He runs his hands over your frame, you run yours up his tresses. You are so small against his large body, and as he cradles you in his arms, he kisses your skin wherever his lips can reach. You cry out soft coos as you move together. You can hardly believe that this is happening, that after all you have been through together, after all of your worries and doubts, that you are experiencing each other so intimately – and Stars, it is much more wonderful than you could have ever conceived it to be. To spend your last night together in this way...it is nothing short of pure and utter bliss. The events of the past few weeks reel in your mind, of your unique relationship with this exquisite man. Each gentle brush of his hand, each time his laugh healed your sorrows, each smile he coaxed from you. Each hushed, stolen conversation under the moonlight. The emptiness and silence of the night that would follow his departure and how, then alone, you would drift to sleep, your own fingers dancing softly between your thighs, fantasising of this exact moment. This moment which you believed would only and always remain a dream. But now you are here, straddling his large body, him sheathed deep inside of you, his kisses marking your skin – Stars, it feels so right. It feels so right, that even though everything will change in the morning, that even though you know it will pain you to have to lose him – suddenly, in this moment it does not matter at all. It is eternally, infinitely worth it. Because what is happening right now, it is so perfect. It is so perfect that if you were even able to, you could not possibly bring yourself to change a thing about it.

You throw your head back as you grind down onto him, and he runs his tongue up your exposed throat. Your hands are holding him tightly, deeply wound into the tentacles behind his head. He moans into your mouth when you clamp down on him, as the hard tip of his cock brushes against that sensitive spot deep inside. You untangle your hands from his tendrils, sliding your fingers free to grasp at his chest. You gently push him backwards, encouraging him to lie down, so that you can take full control on top of him.

You rock his length in and out of yourself, rubbing his hardness into that intoxicating part of you, a part none of your other lovers have ever been able to reach before. His hands hold the top of your thighs, his wide eyes fully engrossed in your movements, and then he spreads his fingers and slides them upwards. You whine as he grasps tightly onto your hips, his large hands able to easily hold so much of you. Your naked body is illuminated by the moon and star light that pours through the large window panels. You move your arms forward, resting your hands on his chest, framing your breasts between them. You blink slowly, indulging in the sweet expression on his face – one of his hands trails higher, and then he is tugging you gently forward. You lean into him, and as you reach his face, his palm cups your cheek.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers.

He kisses you softly, and then his hands return to your waist, and he tightens his hold on you, and you continue to ride him. His tongue slips inside your mouth, and after many fervent, wet kisses, you are suddenly so desperate for more. You pull away from his lips, and position yourself most efficiently to quicken your pace. You start to bounce on him, using your legs and hips to move up and down, to stroke your wetness over him faster and faster. His hands soon slide to your rear, squeezing at your soft flesh, and it feels so good that you give in to his strong hands, allowing him to take back control. He moves you so slowly, but so deeply on top of him. His moans begin to increase in volume, they are much more fierce, and combined with his hardened grip on you, you sense that he is close to his own peak. Stars, you want to see his undoing, you want to watch him lose himself in your body, feel him feel his climax. He begins to move faster, and you cry out at the sudden change of pace. He is thrusting into you hard. You run your hands over his strong arms, scratching at his skin as he drums his large, firm cock deep inside of you, over and over and over again. Your legs begin to tremble, and that now familiar, addictive heat laps at your lower abdomen.

“W-Where?” he asks, and knowing exactly what he is asking, you smirk.

You reply weakly. “Inside.”

He curses in a deep, guttural voice, and the sound triggers your final climax. It crashes over you, violent and powerful, engulfing all of your senses in a ferocious wave. Your walls clench around him, and you look down to see him losing control to his own orgasm – he groans and bites his lip, his back slightly arches, his eyes close – and then he gives in to it. His movements are chaotic, his thrusts now uncontrolled in raw, primal desire. He peaks, and you can feel as he comes inside of you, you feel as thick ropes of it coat your walls. Maker, there is so much of it. He really does fill you up. Stars. You whimper, suddenly so weak. You smile down at him. He looks so beautiful beneath you, his tendrils splay around his head, his eyes still closed as he basks in his release. You brush your fingers over his skin, and your hands seem so small on his large, green chest.

You are swiftly kissing again. He removes himself from you slowly, pulling you down to him, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you feel, how wonderful he finds you. You are drained, your energy entirely depleted. You can already feel the traitorous pull of sleep. He strokes your hair, gently kisses your skin as your breathing relaxes. He asks how you feel, if you need anything. You reply that you feel amazing, that you need nothing more. You nuzzle your face into his neck, gently kissing his skin, making the most of his comforting scent. He hushes you, nudging you closer, and pulls you into the most soothing embrace of your existence. You recover together; your heart rates settle, your breathing becomes measured. You hold each other, watch each other, in wordless affection, until you can hardly keep your eyes open. He whispers your name fondly, and you realise, this is the last time you will ever hear him say it.

“Goodnight,” he says wistfully, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your eyes flicker shut, your tiredness finally betraying you.

“And goodbye,” you reply, before you fall asleep in his arms. You know that when you awaken, he will be gone. He will depart from your planet, and go on to defend other desperate, far-away worlds in the name of the Jedi Order and the Republic. That he will spend the rest of his life preserving life. Stars, you will miss your protector – you will miss his witty remarks, his bright smile, his hearty laugh. You will miss his company, his comforting voice, and the feel of his lips on yours. You will miss him, and you will think of him often. But you will have no regrets. For this night marks the closure of the most dramatic chapter of your life. A chapter that began with terror, but ends with tenderness. This night will live on with each peaceful rotation of the planet, peace fought for and won at the hands of your tall, charming Jedi lover. The night will live on with each setting of the sun, and rise of the moon, a soft reminder of your final intimacy. This night, and all the time that you have spent together will live on inside of you. Your memory of his kindness and his affection will be cherished for the remainder of your days. But him – he will be lost to you forever.

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