could i see nsfw c or maybe t for felix catton x reader? congrats on 100!
thank u bby!!! i'm gonna write for t because icl the c prompt confuses me so fucking bad. "self explanatory" ok well im AUTISTIC!!! fuck me man. anyway felix catton x f!reader mwwwah!
Felix knows you like the back of his hand, and though he experienced the typical bout of jealousy when you introduced him to your favorite vibrator, Felicia, he knows now that it isn't competition. In fact, when he's got your legs spread with him firmly sat in between them, vibrator pressed to your clit, and the gem of your butt plug winking at him between your asscheeks, he feels like the captain of a well-functioning team.
"There we go, my fuckin' girl," he grins cheekily, watching at how your hips jump and your mind seems to slow as he's knuckle deep inside you, the constant buzz against your clit becoming all too much.
"Hnnngh- Felix, Feeeelix...." your whines are a sweet symphony to him, focused on the gush between your legs as he curls his fingers up inside you, eyes dark and lidded with lust. "It's- so good, too muh-much, I can't-"
He quiets you with a sharp smack to your thigh, watching in glee at the way your skin recoils and flushes red. "Yeah, you can," he says insistently, glaring at you when you keep whining. The feeling of the ceaseless vibrating makes your insides bunch up, paired with the cool metal against your ass and Felix's fingers unrelenting in their assault on your cunt. It's so much stimulation, enough to make you arch your back to try to get away from the buzz of your vibrator.
"Hck- can't, can't, please," you mewl, thighs clenching and unclenching. Felix grits his teeth, adding a third finger in and pressing the vibrator at a different angle that abuses your clit just right, making you throw your head back as a guttural groan escapes your lips. "Felix!"
He bats his eyes at you innocently, piercing catching the light and glinting at you. "Yes, baby?" he coos, slamming into you and making you keen. "What is it? Use your words, darling."
The only intelligible sounds coming out of your mouth are "please" and somehow, "more." At the end of the day, there's never enough of Felix for you. You're insatiable- which is good for your boyfriend, because he can't get enough of you either.
He sighs, pulling out his fingers. They're shiny with your arousal, and he pops them in his mouth, sucking them clean. "More, more, more," he mocks you, ripping open the condom wrapper with one hand. "Christ, you're such a slut for it. S'okay, though, I know juuuust how to shut you up," he says smugly while he rolls the condom onto himself, nudging your clit with the tip before sliding in.
He keeps the vibrator on. He knows what you want.
taglist: @pittsick, @yardofbrunettes, @love-ella333, @lacelottie, @jesuistrestriste, @sweetheartfaist . click here to join !
Hmmm try draw Optimus roasting Sentinel with sarcasm in front of anyone/everyone/their crew I don't care just anyone in ur mind(Also I love ur art,dang dude you deserve more followers how can nobody noticed your masterpieces???)
one month away from this ask being a year old and i Finally got around to it..... but rest assured i have appreciated your kind words since you sent it in <33
just imagine op has "don't talk to me until i've finished this entire cube (of cybertronian coffee)" written on his back in sharpie. i think the only way he would bully sentinel was if he was half asleep because he's nice or whatever but he would still do it. go king!!!!!
sorry if this is too vague but maybe some sweet ole 11-14 year old Boba Content for the writing requests if u have any ideas?
“You’re not my brother.”
The older trooper looks at him through the ray shield separating them, eyes scanning over the crimson that shifts between the projectors. “I don’t know,” he replies, voice calm and collected for someone he had attempted to kill before. “We look pretty similar.”
Boba glares at him with intensity, though he doubts the other was affected by his easy-going smile and relaxed shoulders. “I swear, when I get out of here I’m going to kill you—”
“Really?” the clone asks. “Because you can’t even reach the top of the door.”
“Shut up.” Boba plops down on the bench at the back wall, crossing his arms and beginning to scheme. He makes a brief scan over the room, eyes drifting from the ray shield at the end of the cell to the ceilings above. His gaze stops at a metal grate embedded into the wall, near the roof, a ventilation shaft that provides him the necessary oxygen to keep him breathing. It would have been perfect if it weren’t for the bench he sat on being nailed to the floor, or the height of the grate above his much shorter head. The shaft was way too tall for him to climb up to.
“That shaft is way too tall for you to climb up to,” the clone says.
“What are you doing here?” Boba snaps, ignoring the flush of embarrassment over his features at the comment. “Are you taking me to prison?”
“Why would I do that?” the clone asks. “You’re like… what? Eight? I wouldn’t toss you in there even if you were responsible for first-degree murder. And General Windu advocated for you to be put under probation instead. Think of this less as a sentence and more of a… really long time-out.”
“I’m not a child.”
The clone glances him over. “Sure, vod’ika.”
“And don’t call me that!” Boba snaps his head away, glaring at the corner of the cell instead of at the clone as he crosses his arms. He ignores the churning of his stomach at the term, or the name that the man had previously mentioned that burns resentment in his chest. “Why do you follow his orders anyway?”
“He’s our general.”
“Like hell he is!” Boba shouts. “He’s nothing but a selfless, heatless… prick!”
“Hey, hey, watch that language, young man.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Boba shoots up from his seat and stomps over to the ray-shield, glaring at the man with all his might. “You don’t know what he’s really like. What he did. You shouldn’t be following him, you should be wanting him dead just like me!”
The clone’s easy expression falls to an emotionless facade. “Why?”
Boba scoffs, turning his gaze away. “You wouldn’t understand.”
The man stares at him. He’s quiet. A silence is draped between them. Boba waits for him to say something, waits for him to say anything, until the silence pushes him to his edge. “He killed my father.”
He would then realize that was probably what the clone was hoping for, but before he could retract his statement and cuss him out, the man’s mouth fell open to a quiet o. He sits down in front of him, shocking Boba to his core. The clone inspects him for a moment, something shining in his eyes. “You’re… Fett’s kid, aren’t you? The unaltered one?”
Boba is speechless for a few moments. He hesitantly sits down on his side of the ray-shield, facing the older. “Uh… yeah.”
The clone chuckles softly. “I remember hearing about you. Commander Ponds—” his voice catches in his throat. “Ponds always talked about you. Said you were practically everyone’s little brother. Course, I never got to meet you — I was one of the newer batches, didn’t train with Jango much.”
“But you knew him.”
“Course I did,” the clone laughs. “Everyone knew Jango. Lot of ‘em were sad about him, y’know. Mostly the commanders. The news hit hard. Real hard.”
Boba’s begun to wring his hands together, fighting back the torrent of emotions that threaten to spill from his eyes. “But… Windu…”
The clone sighs. He drags a hand over the leaf pattern on his cheek. “Trust me, kid. All of us were pretty skeptical of working for him. Ponds especially. Then the war dragged on and… he really proved himself to us. I don’t know why. He just… cares. Thinks about our safety before charging into battle.”
Boba doesn’t believe him. He’s not the one who had to see Mace Windu charge at his father down below, not the one who had to see his buir be cut down by the slice of a blade. He doesn’t understand, despite how much the voice in the back of his head says otherwise, and despite the emotions that are visible through the trooper’s eyes. The clone, however, knows this as well.
“You don’t have to forgive him,” the clone says. “These things take time. And you’re justified for your anger. I’m sorry you had to go through that. No kid should have to endure this.”
Boba goes quiet. He’s attempting not to sob or let the fresh wave of tears fall down his cheeks. Of course, he’s good at that. Good, but only for so long. He refuses to look at the clone on the other side of the ray-shield, knowing that if he did, he’d regret it. Keeping his voice as stable as it could be, he speaks.
“I’m sorry.” The words flood out before he could stop them. “About Ponds. I didn’t… I never thought we had to…”
The trooper’s eyes, in the corner of his vision, become pained. “Ponds knew the risks. Kept his head held up high despite the danger. He was a good man.”
He exhales.
“I forgive you. But maybe next time, you should know better than to make deals with bounty hunters.”
Boba nods. It was a mistake to follow Aurra Sing, to risk innocent lives when his only goal was to have Mace Windu’s head in his hands. He should have never trusted her to be his only way of vengeance, or anyone for that manner. She had abandoned him, left him with nothing, alone with those he had declared an enemy. He wished he had seen it earlier. The darkness collects in his chest.
“So,” he asks, “what happens to me now?”
The clone shrugs. “Well, we’re not going to throw you into prison, that’s for sure. We were thinking of just keeping you under probating for the time being, until you, er, calm down.”
“Which means?”
“Which means unless your first action out of this cell isn’t killing Mace Windu in cold blood, you’ll stay here for the time being. We’ll take you out regularly, bring you to the mess hall for some grub. When we feel you’ve calmed down, you’ll go free, though we’ll still keep tabs on you. In case you do something like that again.”
Boba shakes his head. “I won’t.”
“Great!” The clone trooper grins, leaning back on his hands as he flashes him a friendly smile. “Glad to know we’re on the same page.”
Boba nods tersely. He almost doesn’t ask the question — he’s already becoming so friendly with the other trooper, far too much based on his own tastes and will, the voice in the back of his head screaming for him not to get too close — but the words fall out of his mouth before he could stop it. “What’s your name?”
hi idk if requests are open IF THEY ARENT PLZ IGNORE THIS GRAHHH but could u draw some more cedfia age swap au!!!
Hello! Haha of course! Here’s a quick little doodle!
Lmoa I’d love to draw more of this au but I’ve been blanking on what to draw for it so I’d be open to suggestions! (Tho I will be slow with them probably 💔)
